illiiispriiii 


L I B R.  ^ ^ 

Shcalagiciil  ^emiiiavy, 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

The  Stephen  Collins  Donation. 

No.  3(^33 

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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
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Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


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HISTORY 


SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


VOL.  III. 


HISTORY 


0 F 


SPANISH  LITERATURE, 


R Y 


GEORGE  TICKNOR. 


IX  THREE  VOLUME,S. 

VOLUME  III. 


N E W YORK; 

HARPER  AND  BROTHERS,  83  CLIFF  STREET. 


M DCCC  XI-IX. 


I 


Knterod  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1640.  by 
G K o R G E T I r N o K , 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  tlie  District  of  Massaclmsetts. 


C O N T E N T S 


OF 

VOLUME  THIRD. 


SECOND  PERIOD. 

(Continue^!),  ) 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 


Satirical  Poetry,  Epistolary,  Elegiac,  Pastoral,  Epicram-matic, 
Didactic,  and  Descriptive. 


Satirical  Poetry 

.'5 

Pedro  de  Enzinas 

. 12 

Mendoza,  Boscan 

3 

Morales,  Tapia 

13 

Castillejo,  Montemayor  . 

4 

Balvas,  Villegas 

. 13 

Padilla,  Cantoral  . 

4 

Carrillo,  Esquilache 

13 

Murillo,  Artieda 

4 

Quevedo,  Espinosa  . 

. 13 

Barahona  de  Soto 

4 

Soto  de  Roxas,  Zarate  . 

13 

Juan  de  Jauregui 

4 

Ulloa,  Los  Reyes 

13 

The  Argensolas  . 

5 

Barrios,  Inez  de  la  Cruz 

13 

Quevedo,  Gongora  . 

5 

Pastorals  successful  . 

. 14 

Cervantes,  Espinel 

0 

Epigrams,  amatory 

14 

Arguijo,  Rioja 

6 

Maldonado,  Silvestre 

1.') 

Salcedo,  Ulloa,  Melo  . 

G 

Villegas,  Gongora 

1.7 

Rebolledo,  Solis 

G 

Camoens,  Argensolas 

1.) 

.Satire  discouraged  ‘ . 

7 

Villegas,  Quevedo 

1.7 

Elegiac  Poetry 

8 

Esquilache 

. 1.7 

Garcilasso  .... 

8 

Francisco  de  la  Torre  . 

17 

Figueroa,  Silvestre  . 

<) 

Rebolledo 

. IG 

Cantoral,  the  Argensolas 

9 

Didactic  Poetry  . 

17 

Borja,  Herrera 

9 

Earliest  .... 

. 17 

Rioja,  Quevedo 

9 

In  the  Cancioneros 

17 

Villegas  . . . . . 

9 

Boscan,  Silvestre,  IMendoza 

. 17 

Elegy  does  not  succeed 

9 

Guzman,  Aldana,  Rufo 

19 

Pastoral  Poetry 

10 

Virues,  Cantoral 

. 19 

Garcilasso,  Boscan,  Mendoza 

10 

Morillo,  Salas 

19 

Figueroa,  Cantoral  . 

10 

Argensola,  Artieda  . 

. 19 

Montemayor 

10 

Mesa,  Espinel 

19 

.Saa  de  Miranda 

10 

Juan  de  la  Cueva 

. 20 

Polo,  Balbuena  . 

12 

Pablo  de  Cespedcs 

2(1 

Barahona  de  Soto 

. 12 

Lope  de  Vega  . 

22 

Padilla,  Silvestre  . 

12 

Rebolledo,  Trapeza 

22 

VI 


CONTENTS. 


Emblems 

. 22 

Dicastillo  .... 

23 

Daza,  Covarrubias 

22 

Didactic  Poetry  fails 

23 

l^pscriptive  Poetry  . 

. 23 

CHAPTER 

XXXII. 

Ballad  Poetry. 

lilfTect  of  the  Romanceros 

25 

Los  Doce  Pares 

31 

-Lorenzo  de  Sepulveda 

. 26 

Romancero  del  Cid 

34 

Alonso  de  Fuentes 

27 

Primavera  de  Perez  . 

34 

Juan  de  Timoncda  . 

. 29 

Esquilache  .... 

35 

Pedro  de  Padilla  . 

30 

Silvestre,  Montemayor 

35 

Juan  de  la  Cueva 

. 31 

Espinel,  Castillejo 

35 

(lines  Perez  de  Hita 

31 

Lopez  de  Maldonado 

35 

Hidalgo,  Valdivielso 

. 31 

Gongora,  Arteaga 

3.5 

Lope  de  Vega 

32 

Villamediana,  Coronel 

35 

Arellano  .... 

. 32 

Cervantes,  Lope  de  A'ega 

36 

Roca  y Serna,  Elsquilache 

33 

Fereira,  Alarcon 

36 

Mendoza,  Quevedo  . 

. 33 

Diego  de  la  Chica 

36 

Silva  de  Romances 

33 

Universal  Love  of  Ballads 

37 

CHAPTER 

XXXIII. 

Romantic 

Fiction.  — 

- Prose  Pastorals. 

Romances  of  Chivalry  . 

38 

Bovadilla  .... 

48 

Changed  Taste 

. 39 

Bernardo  de  la  Vega 

48 

Seen  in  Pastoral  Fictions 

39 

Lope  de  Vega 

49 

Shepherd’s  Life  in  Spain  . 

. 39 

Bernardo  de  Balbuena 

19 

Sannazaro  in  Italy 

40 

His  Siglo  de  Oro  . 

49 

Montemayor  . 

. 41 

Suarez  de  Figueroa  . 

.56 

His  Diana  Enamorada  . 

41 

His  Amaryllis  and  Pastor  Fido 

.56 

(ilontinued  b)’^  Perez  . 

. 43 

Adorno,  Botelho 

51 

And  by  Gil  Polo  . 

44 

Quintana,  Cuevas 

51 

Antonio  de  Lo  Frasso 

. 45 

Corral,  Saavedra 

51 

Luis  Galvez  de  Montalvo 

40 

Popularity  of  Pastorals 

52 

His  Filida 

. 46 

Their  Incongruities  . 

53 

Cervantes 

47 

Their  Foundation 

51 

Rartolomd  de  Enci.so 

. 47 

Their  Failure  .... 

54 

CHAPTER 

XXXIV. 

Romantic  Fiction,  continued.  — Stories  in  the  Gusto  Picaresco. 

Their  Origin 

. 55 

Contempt  for  honest  Labor  . 

56 

^Military  Life  . 

. 56 

Feeling  of  the  lower  Classes 

57 

CONTENTS. 

vii 

The  Picaros 

58 

Vicente  Espinel 

67 

Lazarillo  de  Tormes 

. 58 

His  Marcos  de  Obregoii 

68 

Mateo  Aleman 

59 

Yanez  y Rivera 

71 

llis  Guzman  de  Alfavache 

. 59 

His  Alonso  .... 

71 

Spurious  Second  Part  . 

61 

Quevedo,  Solorzano  . 

72 

Genuine  Second  Part 

. 61 

Enriquez  Gomez  . 

73 

Andreas  Perez 

66 

Estevanillo  Gonzalez 

74 

1 [is  Picara  Justina  . 

. 67 

Success  of  PIcaro  Stories 

75 

Drama  and  Short  Tales 

67 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Romantic  Fiction,  continued.  — 

Serious  and  Historical  Ro.mances. 

Early  Specimens 

. 76 

Benito  Remigio  Noydens  . 

86 

.luan  de  Flores 

77 

Gonzalo  de  Cespedes 

87 

Nunez  de  Reinoso  . 

. 77 

Cervantes Lamarca 

87 

Luzindaro  y Medusina  . 

. 77 

Dos  Verdaderos  Amigos 

88 

Hieronimo  de  Contreras  . 

. 78 

Valladares  de  Valdelomar 

88 

Relations  with  Italy  and  A1 

giers  79 

Grave  Fictions  discouraged  . 

89 

Gines  Perez  de  Plita 

. 79 

Cosine  de  Texada  . 

90 

His  Guerras  de  Granada 

79 

Christoval  Lozano 

91 

Not  imitated  . 

. 84 

Serious  Fictions  not  successful  . 

92 

La  Cryselia  de  Lidaceli 

86 

CHAPTE 

R XXXVI. 

Romantic 

Fictio.n, 

concluded.  — Tales. 

Arise  from  the  State  of  Society  93 

Montalvan  .... 

106 

Antonio  de  Villegas 

9.3 

Cespedes  y Meneses,  Moya  . 

107 

His  Story  of  Narvaez  . 

91 

Castro  y Anaya 

107 

.luan  de  Timoneda  . 

. 96 

Mariana  de  Carbajal  . 

107 

His  Patranuelo  . 

97 

Maria  de  Zayas 

108 

Cervantes,  Hidalgo 

. 99 

Mata,  Castillo,  Lozano 

108 

Suarez,  Figueroa 

99 

Solorzano  .... 

108 

Salas  Barbadillo  . 

. 99 

Alcala,  Villalpando,  Prado  . 

109 

Eslava,  Agreda  . 

102 

Isidro  de  Robles 

109 

Lilian  y Verdugo  . 

. 103 

Luis  Velez  de  Guevara 

110 

Lope  de  Vega 

103 

Jacinto  Polo  .... 

111 

Salazar,  Lugo,  Camerino 

. 103 

Marcos  Garcia  . 

112 

Changed  Form  of  Tales 

104 

Francisco  Santos  . 

113 

Tirso  de  Molina 

. 104 

Tales  everywhere 

117 

Montalvan  . 

105 

Early  Appearance  of  Romantic 

Matias  de  los  Reyes 

. 106 

Fiction  .... 

118 

Fernandez  y Peralta  . 

106 

Its  early  Decay 

119 

CONTENTS. 


viii 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
Eloquence.  — Epistolary  Correspondence. 


Forensic  Eloquence  little  culti- 

Letter-writers formal 

vated  ..... 

121 

Queen  Isabella,  Columbus 

Courts  of  Justice 

121 

Guevara,  Avila  . 

Cortes  ..... 

121 

Zurita  and  his  Friends  . 

Eloquence  of  the  Pulpit 

122 

Antonio  Perez  . 

Luis  de  Leon 

123 

Santa  Teresa 

Luis  de  Granada 

123 

Argensola,  Lope  de  Vega  . 

Cultismo  in  the  Pulpit  . 

127 

Quevedo,  Cascales  . 

Paravicino  .... 

127 

Antonio,  Solis  . 

Pulpit  Eloquence  fails  . 

128 

CHAPTER 

XXXVIII. 

Historical  Composition. 

Fathers  of  Spanish  History 

138 

Antonio  de  Herrera 

Geronimo  de  Zurita  . 

138 

Bartolome  de  Argensola 

Ambrosio  de  Morales 

141 

Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  Inca 

Diego  de  Mendoza 

142 

Francisco  de  Moncada  . 

Ribadeneyra,  Siguenza  . 

142 

Coloma,  Marquis  of  Espinar 

.Tuan  de  Mariana 

143 

Manuel  Melo 

His  Persecutions  . 

146 

Saavedra  Faxardo 

His  History  of  Spain  . 

147 

Antonio  Solis 

Prudencio  Sandoval 

Spanish  Discoveries  and  Con- 

151 

Character  of  Spanish  History 

quests  .... 

153 

CHAPTER 

XXXIX. 

Didactic 

Prose. 

Proverbs  .... 

169 

Luis  de  Granada 

Oldest  .... 

170 

Juan  de  la  Cruz 

Marquis  of  Santillana 

170 

Santa  Teresa 

Garay,  Valles,  Nunez 

171 

School  of  Spiritualists  . 

Mai  Lara,  Palmireno 

172 

Malon  de  Chaide 

Oudin,  Sorapan,  Cejudo 

172 

Agustin  de  Roxas  . 

Juan  de  Yriarte 

173 

Suarez  de  Figueroa  . 

Great  Number  of  Proverbs  . 

173 

Marquez,  Vera  y Zuniga 

Didactic  Prose 

174 

Fernandez  de  Navarrete 

Antonio  de  Torquemada 

174 

Saavedra  Faxardo  . 

Christoval  de  Acosta 

175 

Quevedo,  Antonio  de  Vega  . 

128 

128 

12S» 

129 

130 

13.5 

130 

130 

130 

153 

155 

155 

150 

160 

161 

164 

164 

167 

176 

178 

179 

180 

180 

181 

183 

184 

184 

185 

180 


CONTENTS. 

ix 

Nieremberg,  Benavente  . 

. 186 

Paravicino  .... 

191 

Guzman,  Dantisco 

187 

Baltazar  Gracian 

191 

Andrada,  Villalobos 

. 188 

Cultismo  prevails  . 

194 

Aleman,  Faria  y Sousa 

188 

Juan  de  Zabaleta 

194 

Francisco  de  Andrade 

. 189 

Lozano,  Heredia,  Ramirez 

195 

Cultismo  in  Spanish  Prose  . 

190 

Small  Success  of  Didactic  Prose 

190 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Concluding  Remarks  on  the  Period. 

Decay  of  the  Spanish  Character 

198 

Charles  the  Second 

203 

Charles  the  Fifth,  Philip  the 

Degradation  of  the  Country 

203 

Second  .... 

199 

Religion  sinks  into  Bigotry 

204 

Philip  the  Third 

200 

Loyalty  sinks  into  Servility  . 

207 

Philip  the  Fourth  . 

201 

Literature  fails  with  Character 

209 

THIRD  PERIOD. 

The  Literature  that  existed  in  Spain  betweein  the  Accession 
OF  THE  Bourbon  Fabiily  and  the  Invasion  of  Bonaparte  ; or 
FROM  THE  Beginning  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  to  the  Early 
Part  of  the  Nineteenth. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth. 


Death  of  Charles  the  Second  . 

213 

Its  other  Labors  . 

223 

His 'Will  .... 

214 

Other  Academies  . 

. 223 

War  of  the  Succession  . 

214 

State  of  Poetry  . 

224 

Peace  of  Utrecht 

214 

Moraes  . . . . 

. 225 

Philip  the  Fifth 

215 

Reynosa,  Cevallos 

226 

Academy  of  the  Language  . 

216 

Lobo,  Benegasi 

. 227 

State  of  the  Language  . 

217 

Alvarez  de  Toledo 

22H 

Dictionaries  of  the  Language 

219 

Antonio  Munoz 

. 228 

Dictionary  of  the  Academy 

219 

Sagradas’s  Flores 

228 

Its  Orthography  . 

220 

Jorge  de  Pitillas  . 

. 22;i 

Its  Grammar  .... 

221 

CHAPTER  II. 

Reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  concluded. 

Marquis  of  San  Phelipe  . . 230  Translations  from  the  Erencli  . 233 

French  Influences  . . 232  Ignacio  de  Luzan  . . 233 


X 


CONTENTS. 


Elder  Works  on  Criticism 

335 

State  of  the  Universities 

240 

Enzina,  Rengifo,  Lopez 

236 

Low  State  of  Spanish  Culture 

240 

Cascales,  Salas 

236 

Benito  Feyjoo 

243 

Luzan's  Poetica  . 

237 

His  Teatro  Critico 

244 

State  of  the  Moral  and  Physical 

His  Cartas  Eruditas 

244 

Sciences 

239 

Effect  of  his  Works  . 

245 

CHAPTER  III. 

Reigns  of  Philip  the 

Fifth 

AND  Ferdinand  the  Sixth. 

The  Inquisition 

246 

Condition  of  Letters 

250 

Intolerance 

247 

Salduena,  Moraleja,  Ortiz  . 

250 

Autos  da  Ee  and  Judaism 

248 

Academy  of  Good  Taste 

251 

Culture  under  Ferdinand 

249 

Velazquez  .... 

251 

The  Inquisition 

249 

Mayans  y Siscar  . 

252 

Policy  of  the  State 

250 

Bias  Nasarre 

253 

CHAPTER  IV. 


Reign 

OF  Charles  the  Third. 

State  of  the  Country 

. 254 

Question  of  its  Authorship 

266 

Character  of  the  King 

255 

Efforts  to  restore  the  Old  School 

270 

The  Jesuits  . 

. 256 

Sedano,  Sanchez,  Sarmiento  . 

271 

The  Universities 

256 

Efforts  to  encourage  the  French 

The  Inquisition 

257 

School  .... 

273 

Dawn  of  Better  Things 

258 

Moratin  the  Elder- 

273 

Father  Isla  . 

. 258 

Club  of  Men  of  Letters  . 

274 

His  Juventud  Triunfante 

258 

Cadahalso  .... 

275 

His  Dia  Grande 

. 259 

Yriarte  ..... 

277 

His  Serinones 

260 

His  Fables 

270 

His  Fray  Gerundio 

. 260 

Samaniego  .... 

280 

His  Exile  . 

264 

Ilis  Fables 

281 

His  Cicero 

. 265 

Arroyal,  Montengon 

283 

His  Translation  of  Gil  Bias 

266 

Salas,  Meras,  Norofia 

282 

CHAPTER  V. 


School  of  Sal.vjianca  and 

OTHER  Poets. — Reign  of  Charles  the  j 

POURTH. 

State  of  Literary  Parties 

. 285 

Iglesias  .... 

. 294 

Melendez  Valdes 

285 

Cienfuegos 

295 

His  Works  . 

. 287 

Jovellanos 

. 297 

His  Exile  and  Death  . 

291 

Connected  with  Melendez  . 

298 

Gonzalez 

. 293 

His  Political  Services 

. 299 

Fomer  . ■ . 

294 

His  Exiles  ■ . 

300 

CONTENTS. 

\i 

His  Share  in  the  Revolution  . 

301 

Escoiquiz 

. 306 

His  Death  .... 

303 

Moratin  the  Younger  . 

307 

His  Character 

324 

His  Relations  to  Godoy  . 

. 308 

Munoz  .... 

305 

Quintana  .... 

309 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Theatre 

IN  THE 

Eighteenth  Century. 

Important  Movement 

312 

Autos  suppressed  . 

. 324 

Translations  from  the  French 

312 

Low  State  of  the  Theatre  . 

325 

Cafiizares,  Torres,  Lobo 

313 

Ramon  de  la  Cruz  . 

. 326 

Lower  Classes  rule 

313 

Sedano,  Lassala,  Cortes 

329 

The  old  Court-yards 

314 

Cienfuegos,  Huerta 

. 329 

The  new  Theatres 

314 

Discussions 

330 

The  Opera  .... 

315 

Valladares,  Zavala 

. 331 

('astro,  Anorbe,  Montiano  . 

316 

Cornelia  .... 

332 

The  Virginia  and  Athaulpho  . 

317 

Moratin  the  Younger 

. 333 

Translations  from  the  French 

318 

Patronized  by  Godoy  . 

334 

The  Petimetra  of  Moratin  the 

His  first  Play 

. 335 

Elder  .... 

318 

His  Nueva  Comedia  . 

336 

His  Hormesinda 

319 

His  Baron  and  Mogigata 

. 337 

His  Guzman  el  Bueno 

319 

His  Si  de  las  Ninas  . 

338 

Cadahalso  . . . . 

319 

His  Translations  . 

. 339 

Sebastian  y Latre 

320 

State  of  the  Drama 

340 

Yriarte,  Melendez  . 

321 

Actors  of  Note 

. 340 

Ayala  .... 

321 

State  of  the  Theatre  . 

341 

Huerta  . . . . . 

322 

Prospects 

. 341 

.Tovellanos  .... 

323 

CHAPTER  VII. 


Reigns  of  Charles  the  Fourth  and  Ferdinand  the  Seventh.  — 

CLUSION. 

Con- 

Charles  the  Fourth  and  Godoy 

343 

French  expelled 

346 

French  Revolution 

343 

Ferdinand  the  Seventh 

346 

Index  Expurgatorius 

344 

Effect  of  the  Times  on  Letters 

347 

Affair  of  the  Escurial  . 

345 

Interregnum  in  Culture 

349 

Abdication 

345 

Revival  of  Letters  . 

349 

French  Invasion  . 

345 

Prospects  for  the  Future 

350 

VOL.  III. 


h 


CONTENTS. 


xii 


APPENDIX,  A. 

Origin  of  the  Spanish  Language. 


Spain  and  its  Name 

358 

The  Arabs 

The  Iberians  in  Spain 

356 

Their  Invasion 

The  Celts  .... 

357 

Their  Effect  on  the  Provencal 

The  Celtiberians 

358 

Their  Refinement  . 

The  Phoenicians 

358 

The  Christians  and  Pelayo  . 

The  Carthaginians 

359 

The  Mozarabes 

The  Romans  .... 

360 

Their  Influence  . 

Their  Colonies  . 

362 

Their  Reunion 

Their  Language 

363 

The  Language  of  the  North 

Their  Writers  . 

364 

How  modified 

Christianity  introduced  . 

365 

First  written  Spanish  . 

Its  Effects  on  the  Language 

366 

Carta  Puebla  de  Aviles  . 

Irruption  of  the  Northern  Tribes 

368 

The  Romance 

The  Franks,  Vandali,  etc.  . 

369 

The  Spanish  or  Castilian 

The  Goths  .... 

369 

Materials  that  compose  it 

Their  Culture 

370 

Its  rapid  Prevalence 

Their  Effect  on  the  Language  . 

371 

APPENDIX,  B. 

The  Romanceros. 

Ballads  on  separate  Sheets 

388 

Romancero  General  . 

Oldest  Ballad-book 

389 

Early  Selections  from  the  Ro- 

That of  Antwerp  . 

390 

manceros 

Other  early  Ballad-books 

392 

Recent  Selections  . 

Ballad-book  in  Nine  Parts 

392 

What  is  still  wanted  . 

APPENDIX,  C. 

Fernan  Gomez  de  Cibdareal 

AND  the  Centon  Epistolario. 

Suggestions  on  its  Genuineness 

397 

That  of  the  First  Edition 

Probably  a Forgery 

398 

Misstatements  about  Juan  de 

No  such  Person  mentioned  early  398 

Mena  .... 

No  Manuscript  of  the  Letters  . 

398 

About  Barrientos  . 

Date  of  the  earliest  Edition  false  398 

About  Alvaro  de  Luna 

Second  Edition  admits  it  . 398  Appeared  in  an  Age  of  Forgeries 

No  Date  to  the  Letters  at  first  399  State  of  the  Question  . 

Their  Style  . . v . . 399 


3Til 

373 

371 

37.5 

370 

377 

37H 

379 

380 

381 

38-J 

383 

381 

381 

385 

389 

393 

391 

395 

396 

399 

399 

400 

401 

402 

403 


CONTENTS. 


xiii 


APPENDIX,  D. 
The  Buscapie. 


.Statement  by  Los  Rios  . 

404 

The  Duke  of  Lafoes  . 

410 

By  Ruydiaz 

405 

Don  Pascual  de  Gandara 

411 

Effect  of  their  Statements 

406 

Its  Internal  Evidence  . 

411 

Don  Adolfo  de  Castro 

406 

Resemblances  to  the  Style  of 

Publishes  a Buscapie 

406 

Cervantes 

411 

What  it  is 

407 

Mistake  about  Enzinas  . 

412 

Contradicts  Los  Rios  and  Ruy- 

About an  old  Proverb 

413 

diaz  .... 

408 

Its  Title-page 

414 

Its  long  Concealment  suspicious 

408 

Its  Notice  of  Alcala  . 

414 

Its  External  Evidence 

409 

State  of  the  Question 

415 

Argote  de  Molina  . 

409 

APPENDIX,  E. 

Editions,  Translations, 

AND 

Imitations  of  the  Don  Quixote. 

First  Part  .... 

416 

Of  Pellicer  .... 

418 

Second  Part 

417 

Of  Clemencin 

419 

Both  Parts  .... 

417 

Translations  .... 

419 

Lord  Carteret’s  Edition 

417 

Imitations  out  of  Spain 

420 

That  of  the  Academy 

418 

In  Spain  .... 

421 

Of  Bowie  .... 

418 

Its  Fame  everywhere  . 

422 

APPENDIX,  E. 

Early  Collections  of  Old  Spanish  Plays. 

Comedias  de  Diferentes  Autores  423  Various  smaller  Collections  426 
Comedias  Nuevas  Escogidas  424 


APPENDIX,  G. 

On  the 

Origin 

OF  CuLTIS.MO. 

(Controversy  about  it  in  Italy  . 

427 

Arteaga  and  Isla 

429 

Bettinelli  and  Tiraboschi 

427 

Lampillas 

. 429 

Spanish  Jesuits  in  Italy  . 

428 

End  of  the  Controversy 

430 

Serrano  and  Andres  . 

428 

Result  of  it  . 

. 431 

^'annetti  and  Zorzi 

428 

XIV 


CONTENTS. 


APPENDIX,  H. 

Inedita. 

No.  I.  Poema  de  Jose  el  Pa-  No.  III.  El  Libro  del  Rabi 

triarca  ....  432  Santob  . . . . 4T5 

No.  II.  La  Danza  General  de 
la  Muerte  ....  459 


Index 505 


HISTORY 


OF 

SPANISH  LITERATURE. 

SECOND  PERIOD. 

The  Literature  that  existed  in  Spain  from  the  Accession 
OF  the  Austrian  Family  to  its  Extinction,  or  from  the 
Beginning  of  the  Sixteenth  Century  to  the  End  of  the 


Seventeenth. 

(continued.) 

VOL.  III. 


1 


A 


4 

V.' 


. ■ » 9'.. 

•'•  wi 


'i  ' 


■I  *>.  ft  f 

'"'Kt 


> 


I 


■,f' 


/v'”!- '-1  ^ ^■;ll  'i  I 

y.  ..i  5'  W;.  ' '1  ; -i-  I , ,'\ 

3Rji»fr 


•KijAa  oj’k  1 v'n'!' 
,A'  ^-r.  ■: 

. 'jV.rrK'Hr '" 

It  ..  i'»ir 


HISTORY 


OF 

SPANISH  LITERATURE. 

SECOND  PERIOD. 

(continued.) 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


Satirical  Poetry  : The  Argensolas,  Quevedo,  and  others.  — Elegi.ac 
Poetry  AND  Epistles  : Garcilasso,  Herrera,  and  others. — Pastoral 
Poetry  : Saa  de  Miranda,  Balbuena,  Esquilache,  an,d  others.  — 
Epigrams  ; Villegas,  Rebolledo,  and  others.  — Didactic  Poetry  : 
Rufo,  CuEVA,  Cespedes,  and  others. — Emble.ms  : Daza,  Covarrubias. 
— Descriptive  Poetry  : Dicastillo. 


Satirical  poetry,  whether  in  the  form  of  regular 
satires,  or  in  the  more  familiar  guise  of  epistles,  has 
never  enjoyed  a wide  success  in  Spain.  Its  spirit,  in- 
deed, Avas  known  there  from  the  times  of  the  Archpriest 
of  Hita  and  Rodrigo  Cota,  both  of  whom  seem  to  have 
been  thoroughly  imbued  Avith  it.  Torres  Naharro,  too, 
in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  Silves- 
tre  and  Castillejo  a little  later,  still  sustained  it,  and 
Avrote  satires  in  the  short  national  Aurse,  Avith  much  of 
the  earlier  freedom,  and  all  the  bitterness,  that  origi- 
nally accompanied  it. 

But  after  Mendoza  and  Boscan,  in  the  middle  of  that 


4 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


century,  had  sent  poetical  epistles  to  one  another  writ- 
ten in  the  manner  of  Horace,  though  in  the  Italian  terza 
rima,  the  fashion  was  changed.  A rich,  strong  invec- 
tive, such  as  Castillejo  dared  to  use  when  he  wrote 
the  “ Satire  on  Women,”  which  was  often  reprinted  and 
greatly  relished,  was  almost  entirely  laid  aside;  and  a 
more  cultivated  and  philosophical  tone,  suited  to  the 
stately  times  of  Charles  the  Fifth  and  Philip  the  Sec- 
ond, took  its  place.  Montemayor,  it  is  true,  and  Padilla, 
with  a few  wits  of  less  note,  wrote  in  both  manners ; 
but  Cantoral  with  little  talent,  Gregorio  Murillo  with  a 
good  deal,  and  Pey  de  Artieda  in  a familiar  style  that 
was  more  winning  than  either,  took  the  new  direction 
so  decidedly,  that,  from  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  the  change  may  be  considered  as  substantially 
settled.  ‘ 

Barahona  de  Soto  was  among  the  earliest  that  wrote 
in  this  new  form,  which  was  a union  of  the  Roman 
with  the  Italian.  We  have  four  of  his  satires,  com- 
posed after  he  had  served  in  the  Morisco  wars ; the 
tirst  and  the  last  of  which,  assailing  all  bad  poets, 
show  plainly  the  school  to  which  he  belonged  and  the 
direction  he  wished  to  follow.  But  his  efforts,  though 
seriously  made,  did  not  raise  him  above  an  untolerated 
mediocrity.^ 

A single  satire  of  Jauregui,  addressed  to  Lydia,  as  if 
she  might  have  been  the  Lydia  of  Horace,  is  better.^ 

I All  these  satires  are  found  in  society.  A letter  of  Virues  to  his 
the  works  of  their  respective  authors,  brother,  also  dated  1605,  might  have 
lieretofore  cited,  except  that  of  Mo-  been  added.  It  is  a pleasant  satirical 
rillo“  On  the  Corrupted  Manners  of  his  account  of  a military  march  from  Mi- 
Times,”  which  is  in  Espinosa,  Flores,  Ian  to  the  Low  Countries,  passing  the 
1605,  f.  119.  The  “ Epistolas  ” of  St.  Gothard. 

Artieda  were  printed  the  same  year,  - They  were  first  printed  in  Seda- 
under  the  name  of  “ Artemidoro,”  and  no,  Parnaso,  Tom.  IX.,  1778. 
are  six  in  number.  The  best  are  one  ^ Rimas,  1618,  p.  19k  It  is  a re- 
against  the  life  of  a sportsman,  and  markably  happy  union  of  the  Italian 
one  in  ironical  defence  of  the  follies  of  form  of  verse  and  the  Roman  spirit. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


SATIRICAL  POETRY. 


O 


But  in  the  particular  style  and  manner  of  the  philo- 
sophical Horatian  satire,  none  succeeded  so  well  as  the 
two  Argensolas.  Their  discussions  are,  it  is  true,  some- 
times too  grave  and  too  long ; but  they  give  us  spirit- 
ed pictures  of  the  manners  of  their  times.  The  sketch 
of  a profligate  lady  of  fashion,  for  instance,  in  the  one 
to  Flora,  by  Lupercio,  is  excellent,  and  so  are  long 
passages  in  two  others  against  a court  life,  by  Bartolo- 
me.  All  three,  however,  are  too  much  protracted,  and 
the  last  contains  a poor  repetition  of  the  fable  of  the 
Country  Mouse  and  the  City  Mouse,  in  wdiich,  as  almost 
everywhere  else,  its  author’s  relations  to  Horace  are 
apparent.'^ 

Quevedo,  on  the  other  hand,  followed  Juvenal,  whose 
hard,  unsparing  temper  was  better  suited  to  his  own 
tastes,  and  to  a disposition  embittered  by  cruel  perse- 
cutions. But  Quevedo  is  often  free  and  indecorous, 
as  well  as  harsh,  and  offends  that  sensibility  to  virtue 
which  a satirist  ought  carefully  to  cultivate.  It  should, 
however,  be  remembered  in  his  favor,  that,  though  liv- 
ing under  the  despotism  of  the  Philips,  and  crushed  by 
it,  no  Spanish  poet  stands  before  him  in  the  spirit  of 
an  independent  and  vigorous  satire.  Gongora  ap- 
proaches him  on  some  occasions,  but  Gongora  rarely 
dealt  with  grave  subjects,  and  confined  his  satire  al- 
most entirely  to  burlesque  ballads  and  sonnets,  which 
he  wrote  in  the  fervor  of  his  youth.  At  no  period  of 
his  life,  and  certainly  not  after  he  went  to  court,  would 
he  have  hazarded  a satirical  epistle  like  the  one  on 


4 Rimas,  1634,  pp.  56,  234,  2.54. 
It  is  singular,  however,  that,  while 
Bartolome  imitates  Horace,  he  ex- 
presses his  preference  for  Juvenal. 


Pero  quando  4 escribir  stitiras  llegues, 
A ningun  irriladocartapacio, 

Sino  al  del  cauto  Juvenal,  le  enlregues. 


He  seems,  too,  to  have  been  accounted 
an  imitator  of  Juvenal  by  his  contem- 
poraries; for  Guevara,  in  his  “Diablo 
Cojuelo,”  Tranco  IX.,  calls  him  “ Di- 
vino  Juvenal  Aragones.”  But  it  is 
impossible  not  to  see  that  he  is  full  of 
Horatian  turns  of  thought. 


6 


HISTORY  OF  SPAiMSH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


the  decay  of  Castilian  spirit  and  the  corruption  of  Cas- 
tilian manners,  which  Quevedo  had  the  courage  to  send 
to  the  Count  Duke  Olivares,  when  he  was  at  the  height 
of  his  influence.^ 

The  greatest  contemporaries  of  both  of  them  hardly 
turned  their  thoughts  in  this  direction;  for  as  to  Cer- 
vantes, his  “Journey  to  Parnassus”  is  quite  too  good- 
natured  an  imitation  of  Caporali  to  be  classed  among 
satires,  even  if  its  form  permitted  it  to  be  placed  there ; 
and  as  to  Lope  de  Vega,  though  some  of  his  sonnets 
and  other  shorter  poems  are  full  of  spirit  and  severity, 
especially  those  that  pass  under  the  name  of  Burgui- 
llos,  still  his  whole  course,  and  the  popular  favor  that 
followed  it,  naturally  prevented  him  from  seeking  occa- 
sions to  do  or  say  any  thing  ungracious. 

Nor  did  the  state  of  society  at  this  period  favor  the 
advancement,  or  even  the  continuance,  of  any  such 
spirit.  The  epistles  of  Espinel  and  Arguijo  are,  there- 
fore, absolutely  grave  and  solemn ; and  those  of  liioja, 
Salcedo,  Ulloa,  and  Melo  are  not  only  grave,  but  are 
almost  entirely  destitute  of  poetical  merit,  except  one 
by  the  first  of  them,  addressed  to  Fabio,  which,  if  nei- 
ther gay  nor  witty,  is  an  admirably  wise  moral  rebuke  of 
the  folly  and  irksomeness  of  depending  on  royal  favor. 
Borja  is  more  free,  as  became  his  high  station,  and 
speaks  out  more  plainly;  but  the  best  of  his  epistles 
— the  one  against  a court  life  — is  not  so  good  as  the 
youthful  tercetos  on  the  same  subject  by  Gongora,  nor 
equal  to  his  own  jesting  address  to  his  collected  po- 
ems. Bebolledo,  his  only  successor  of  any  note  at  the 
time,  is  moral,  but  tiresome ; and  Solis,  like  the  few 
that  followed  him,  is  too  dull  to  be  remembered.  In- 


5 It  is  the  last  poem  in  the  “ Melpomene.” 


Chap.  XXXI  ] 


SATIRICAL  POETRY. 


7 


deed,  if  Villegas  in  his  old  age,  when,  perhaps,  he  had 
been  soured  by  disappointment,  had  not  written  three 
satires  which  he  did  not  venture  to  publish,  we  should 
have  nothing  worth  notice  as  we  approach  the  dis- 
heartening close  of  this  long  period.® 

Nearly  all  the  didactic  satires  and  nearly  all  the 
satirical  epistles  of  the  best  age  of  Spanish  literature 
are  Horatian  in  their  tone,  and  written  in  the  Italian 
terza  rima.  In  general,  their  spirit  is  light,  though 
philosophical,  — sometimes  it  is  courtly,  — and,  taken 
together,  they  har'e  less  poetical  force  and  a less  decided 
coloring  than  we  might  claim  from  the  class  to  which 
they  belong.  But  they  are  frequently  graceful  and 
agreeable,  and  some  of  them  will  be  oftener  read,  for 
the  mere  pleasure  they  bestow,  than  many  in  other 
languages  which  are  distinguished  for  greater  wit  and 
severity. 

The  truth,  however,  is,  that  wit  and  severity  of  this 
kind  and  in  this  form  were  never  heartily  encouraged 
in  Spain.  The  nation  itself  has  always  been  too  grave 
and  dignified  to  ask  or  endure  the  censure  they  imply ; 
and  if  such  a character  as  the  Spanish  has  its  ridicu- 
lous side,  it  must  be  approached  by  any  thing  rather 
than  personal  satire.  Books  like  the  romances  of  chiv- 
alry may,  indeed,  he  assailed  with  effect,  as  they  were 
by  Cervantes;  men  in  classes  may  be  caricatured,  as 
they  are  in  the  Spanish  picaresque  novels  and  in  the  old 
drama ; and  bad  poetry  may  be  ridiculed,  as  it  was  by 
half  the  poets  who  did  not  write  it,  and  by  some  who 
did.  But  the  characters  of  individuals,  and  especially 

® The  satires  of  all  these  authors  3-18)  ; or  rather,  two  of  them  on  bad 
are  in  their  collected  works,  except  poets  were  so  printed,  for  the  third 
those  of  A^illegas,  which  were  printed  seems  to  have  been  suppressed,  on  ac- 
from  manuscripts,  supposed  to  be  the  count  of  its  indelicacy, 
originals,  by  Sedano  (Tom.  IX.  pp. 


8 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE  [Period  H. 


of  those  in  high  station  and  of  much  notoriety,  are 
protected,  under  such  circumstances,  by  all  the  social 
influences  that  can  be  brought  to  their  defence,  and 
cannot  safely  be  assailed. 

Such,  at  least,  was  the  case  in  Sjiain.  Poetical  satire 
came  there  to  be  looked  upon  with  distrust,  so  that  it 
Avas  thought  to  be  hardly  in  good  taste,  or  according  to 
the  conventions  of  good  society,  to  indulge  in  its  compo- 
sition.^ And  if,  Avith  all  this,  Ave  remember  the  anxious 
nature  of  the  political  tyranny  Avhich  long  ruled  the 
country,  and  the  noiseless,  sleepless  vigilance  of  the  In- 
quisition, — both  of  Avhich  are  apparent  in  the  certifi- 
cates and  licenses  that  usher  in  Avhatever  succeeded  in 
finding  its  Avay  through  the  press,  — we  shall  have  no 
difficulty  in  accounting  for  the  fact,  that  poetical  satire 
neATr  had  a vigorous  and  healthy  existence  in  Spain, 
and  that,  after  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, it  almost  entmely  disappeared  till  better  times  re- 
vived it. 

Elegies,  though  from  their  subjects  little  connected 
with  satire,  are  yet,  by  their  measure  and  manner,  con- 
nected AAutli  it  in  Spanish  poetry ; for  both  are  generally 
written  in  the  Italian  terza  rima,  and  both  are  often 
throAvn  into  the  form  of  epistles.®  Garcilasso  could 


Cervantes  is  a strong  case  in 
point.  In  the  fourth  chapter  of  his 
“Journey  to  Parnassus,”  immediate- 
ly after  speaking  of  his  Don  Quixote, 
he  disavows  having  ever  written  any 
thing  satirical,  and  denounces  all  such 
compositions  as  low  and  base.  Indeed, 
the  very  words  sdtira  and  sat'irico  came 
at  last  to  be  used  in  a bad  sense  often- 
er  than  in  a good  one.  Huerta,  Si- 
ndnimos  Castellanos,  A^alencia,  1807, 
2 tom.  12mo,  ad  verb. 

® A striking  instance  of  this  is  to 
oe  found  in  the  “ Primera  Parle  del 


Parnaso  Antartico,”  by  Diego  Mexia, 
printed  at  Seville,  1608,  4to,  and  the 
only  portion  of  it  ever  printed.  It 
consists  of  an  original  poetical  letter 
by  a lady  to  Mexia,  and  a translation 
oi’  twenty-one  of  the  Epistles  of  Ovid 
and  his  “ Ibis  ” ; all  in  terza  rima,  and 
nearly  all  in  pure  and  beautiful  Cas- 
tilian verse.  In  the  edition  in  the 
collection  of  Fernandez,  Tom.  XIX., 
1799,  the  epistle  by  the  lady  is  omit- 
ted, which  is  a pity,  since  it  contains 
notices  of  several  South  American 
poets. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


ELEGIAC  POETRY. 


9 


write  elegies  in  their  true  spirit;  but  the  second  that 
passes  under  that  name  in  his  works  is  merely  a familiar 
epistle  to  a friend.  So  is  the  first  by  Figueroa,  Avhich 
is  followed  by  others  in  a tone  more  appropriate  to  their 
titles.  But  all  are  in  the  Italian  verse  and  manner,  and 
two  of  them  in  the  Italian  language.  The  eleven  “Lam- 
entations,” as  he  calls  them,  of  Silvestre,  are  elegiac 
epistles  to  his  lady-love,  written  in  the  old  Castilian 
measures,  and  not  without  the  old  Castilian  poetical 
spirit.  Cantoral  fails ; nor  can  the  Argensolas  and 
Borja  be  said  to  have  succeeded,  though  they  wrote  in 
different  manners,  some  of  wdiich  were  scarcely  elegiac. 
Herrera  is  too  lyric  — too  lofty,  perhaps,  from  the  very 
nature  of  his  genius  — to  write  good  elegies  ; but  some 
of  those  on  his  love,  and  one  in  which  he  mourns  over 
the  passions  that  survive  the  decay  of  his  youth,  have 
certainly  both  beauty  and  tenderness. 

Rioja,  on  the  contrary,  seems  to  have  been  of  the  true 
temperament,  and  to  have  written  elegies  from  instinct, 
though  he  called  them  Silvas;  while  Quevedo,  if  he  were 
the  author  of  the  poems  that  pass  under  the  name  of 
the  Bachiller  de  la  Torre,  must  have  done  violence  to 
his  genius  in  the  composition  of  ten  short  pieces,  which 
he  calls  Endechas,  in  Adonian  verse,  but  which  read 
much  like  imitations  of  some  of  the  gentler  among  the 
old  ballads.  If  to  these  we  add  the  thirteen  elegies  of 
Villegas,  nearly  all  of  which  are  epistles,  and  one  or  two 
of  them  light  and  amusing  epistles,  we  shall  have  Avhat 
is  most  worthy  of  notice  in  this  small  division  of  Span- 
ish poetry  during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centu- 
ries, that  has  not  been  already  considered.  From  the 
whole,  we  should  naturally  infer  that  the  Spanish  tem- 
perament was  little  fitted  to  the  subdued,  simple,  and 
gentle  tone  of  the  proper  elegy ; a conclusion  that  is 

VOL.  HI.  2 


10 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


undoubtedly  true,  notwitbstanding  the  examples  of  Gar- 
cilasso  and  Rioja,  the  best  and  most  elegiac  portions  of 
whose  poetry  do  not  even  bear  its  name.® 


Pastoral  poetry  in  Spain  is  directly  connected  with 
elegiac,  through  the  eclogues  of  Garcilasso,  which  unite 
the  attributes  of  both.  To  his  school,  indeed,  includ- 
ing Boscan  and  Mendoza,  we  trace  the  earliest  success- 
ful specimens  of  the  more  formal  Spanish  pastoral,  with 
the  characteristics  still  recognized.  But  its  origin  is 
much  earlier.  The  climate  and  condition  of  the  Penin- 
sula, which  from  a very  remote  period  had  favored  the 
shepherd’s  life  and  his  pursuits,  facilitated,  no  doubt,  if 
they  did  not  occasion,  the  first  introduction  into  Spanish 
poetry  of  a pastoral  tone,  whose  echoes  are  heard  far 
back  among  the  old  ballads.  But  the  Italian  forms  of 
pastoral  verse  were  naturalized  as  soon  as  they  were  in- 
troduced. Figueroa,  Cantoral,  Montemayor,  and  Saa  de 
Miranda  — the  last  two  of  whom  were  Portuguese,  and 
all  of  whom  visited  Italy  and  lived  there  — contributed 
their  efforts  to  those  of  Garcilasso  and  Boscan,  by  writ- 
ing Spanish  eclogues  in  the  Italian  manner.  All  had 
a good  degree  of  success,  but  none  so  much  as  Saa  de 
Miranda,  who  was  born  in  1495,  and  died  in  1558,  and 
who,  from  the  promptings  of  his  o^vn  genius,  renounced 
the  profession  of  the  law,  to  which  he  was  bred,  and  the 
favor  of  the  court,  where  his  prospects  were  high,  m 
order  to  devote  himself  to  poetry. 

9 The  best  elegiac  poetry  in  the  sito  de  la  Muerte,”  1574,  p.  370,  says 
Spanish  language  is,  perhaps,  that  in  he  thinks  it  comes  from  inde  jaces,  as 
the  two  divisions  of  the  first  eclogue  if  the  mourner  addressed  the  dead 
of  Garcilasso.  Elegies,  or  mournful  body.  But  this  is  absurd.  It  may 
poems  of  any  kind,  are  often  called  come  from  the  Greek  ej/Sera,  for  when 
Endechas  in  Spanish,  as  Quevedo  call-  the  last  verse  of  each  stanza  contained 
ed  his  sad  amatory  poems  ; but  the  ori-  just  eleven  syllables,  the  poem  was 
gin  of  the  word  is  not  settled,  nor  its  said  to  be  written  in  endechas  reaks. 
meaning  quite  well  defined.  Vene-  See  Covarrubias,  and  the  Academy, 
gas,  in  a vocabulary  of  obscure  words  ad  verhum,  who  give  no  opinion, 
at  the  end  of  his  “ Agonia  del  Ttan- 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


PASTORAL  POETRY. 


11 


He  was  the  first  of  the  Portuguese  who  wrote  in  the 
forms  introduced  by  Boscan  and  Garcilasso,  and  none, 
perhaps,  since  his  time  has  appeared  in  them  with 
more  grace  and  power,  — certainly  none  in  the  particu- 
lar form  of  eclogues.  His  pastorals,  however,  are  not 
all  in  the  new  manner.  On  the  contrary,  some  of  them 
are  in  the  ancient  short  verse,  and  seem  to  have  been 
written  before  he  was  acquainted  with  the  change  that 
had  just  been  effected  in  Spanish  poetry.  But  all  of 
them  are  in  one  spirit,  and  are  marked  by  a simplicity 
that  well  becomes  the  class  of  compositions  to  which 
they  belong,  though  it  may  rarely  be  found  in  them. 
This  is  true,  both  when  he  writes  his  beautiful  pastoral 
story  of  “ The  Mondego,”  which  is  in  the  manner  of  Gar- 
cilasso, and  contains  an  account  of  himself  addressed 
to  the  king ; and  when  he  writes  his  seventh  eclogue, 
which  is  in  the  forms  of  Enzina  and  Vicente,  and  seems 
to  have  been  acted  amidst  the  rejoicings  of  the  noble 
family  of  Pereira,  after  one  of  their  number  had  re- 
turned from  military  service  against  the  Turks. 

But  a love  of  the  country,  of  country  scenery  and 
country  occupations,  pervades  nearly  every  thing  Saa  de 
Hiranda  wrote.  The  very  animals  seem  to  be  treated 
by  him  with  more  naturalness  and  familiarity  than 
they  are  elsewhere;  and  throughout  the  whole  of  his 
poetry,  there  is  an  ease  and  amenity  that  show  it  comes 
from  the  heart.  Why  he  wrote  so  much  in  Spanish,  it 
is  not  now  easy  to  tell.  Perhaps  he  thought  the  lan- 
guage more  poetical  than  his  native  Portuguese,  or 
perhaps  he  had  merely  personal  reasons  for  his  prefer- 
ence. But  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  six  out 
of  his  eight  eclogues  are  composed  in  natural,  flowing 
Castilian ; and  the  result  of  the  whole  is,  that,  while,  on 
all  accounts,  he  is  placed  among  the  four  or  five  princi- 


12 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE  [Period  II 


pal  poets  of  his  own  country,  he  occupies  a position  of 
enviable  distinction  among  those  of  the  prouder  nation 
that  soon  became,  for  a time,  its  masters.*” 

Montemayor,  Polo,  and  their  followers  in  prose  pas- 
torals, scattered  bucolic  verse  of  all  kinds  freely  through 
their  fictions ; and  sometimes,  though  seldom,  they  add- 
ed to  the  interest  and  merit  of  their  stories  by  this  sort 
of  ornament.  One  of  those  who  had  least  success  in  it 
was  Cervantes ; and  of  those  who  had  most,  Balbuena 
stands  in  the  first  rank.  His  “ Golden  Age  ” contains 
some  of  the  best  and  most  original  eclogues  in  the  lan- 
guage ; written,  indeed,  rather  in  the  free,  rustic  tone  of 
Theocritus,  than  with  the  careful  finish  of  Virgil,  but 
not  on  that  account  the  less  attractive." 

Of  Luis  Barahona  de  Soto,  we  possess  an  eclogue 
better  than  any  thing  else  he  has  left  us ; and  of  Pe- 
dro de  Padilla,  the  friend  of  Cervantes  and  of  Silvestre, 
a remarkable  improvisator  and  a much  loved  man,  we 
have  a number  of  pastoral  poems  which  carry  with 
them  a picturesque,  antique  air,  from  being  made  up 
in  part  of  ballads  and  villancicos}^  Pedro  de  Enzinas 


10  There  are  many  editions  of  the 
W orks  of  Saa  de  Miranda ; but  the 
second  and  best  (s.  1. 1614, 4to)  is  pre- 
ceded by  a life  of  him,  which  claims 
to  have  been  composed  by  his  personal 
friends,  and  which  states  the  odd  fact, 
that  the  lady  of  whom  he  was  enam- 
oured was  so  ugly,  that  her  family 
declined  the  match  until  he  had  well 
considered  the  matter  ; but  that  he 
persevered,  and  became  so  fondly  at- 
tached to  her,  that  he  died,  at  last,  from 
grief  at  her  loss.  His  merits  as  a 
poet  are  well  discussed  by  Ant.  das 
Neves  Pereira,  in  the  fifth  volume  of 
the  “ Memorias  de  Litt.  Portugueza” 
of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences, 
Lisboa,  1793,  pp.  99,  etc.  Some  of 
his  works  are  in  the  Spanish  Index 
Expurgatorius,  1667,  p.  72. 

11  Of  the  poets  whose  eclogues  are 


found  in  their  prose  pastorals  I shall 
speak  at  large  when  I examine  this 
division  of  Spanish  romantic  fiction. 
Montemayor,  however,  it  should  be 
noted  here,  wrote  other  eclogues, 
which  are  in  his  Cancionero,  1588, 
ff.  Ill,  etc. 

12  It  is  found  in  the  important  col- 
lection, the  “ Flores,”  of  Espinosa,  f. 
66,  where  it  first  appeared. 

13  “ Eglogas  Pastoriles  de  Pedro  de 
Padilla,”  Sevilla,  1582,  4to  ; thirteen 
in  number,  in  all  measures,  and  the 
last  one  partly  in  prose.  Of  Padilla, 
who  was  much  connected  with  the 
men  of  letters  of  his  time,  all  needful 
notices  may  be  found  in  Navarrete, 
“ Vida  de  Cervantes,”  pp.  396-402, 
and  in  Clemencin’s  Notes  to  Don 
Quixote,  Tom.  I.  p.  147.  The  curate 
well  says  of  his  “ Tesoro  de  Poesias,” 


Chap.  XXXI,] 


PASTORAL  POETRY. 


13 


attempted  to  write  religious  eclogues,  and  failed ; but, 
in  the  established  forms,  Juan  de  Morales  and  Gomez 
Tapia,  who  are  hardly  known  except  for  single  attempts 
of  this  kind,‘“  and  Vicente  Espinel,  — among  whose  ec- 
logues, that  in  which  a Soldier  and  a Shepherd  discuss 
the  Spanish  wars  in  Italy  is  both  original  and  poetical,^® 
— were  all  successful. 

The  eclogues  of  Lope  de  Vega,  of  which  we  have  al- 
ready spoken,  drew  after  them  a train  of  imitations,  like 
his  other  popular  poetry.  But  neither  Balvas,  nor  Ville- 
gas, nor  Carrillo,  nor  the  Prince  of  Esquilache  equalled 
him.  Quevedo  alone  among  his  compeers,  and  he  only 
if  he  is  the  author  of  the  poems  of  the  Bachiller  de  la 
Torre,  proved  himself  a rival  of  the  great  master,  un- 
less we  must  give  an  equal  place  to  Pedro  de  Espinosa, 
whose  story  of  “ The  Genii,”  half  elegiac  and  half  pas- 
toral, is  the  happiest  and  most  origmal  specimen  of  that 
peculiar  form  of  which  Boscan  in  his  “ Hero  and  Lean- 
der  ” gave  the  first  imperfect  example.'^  Pedro  Soto  de 
Roxas,  — who  wrote  short  lyric  poems  with  spirit,  as 
well  as  eclogues,  — Zarate,  and  Ulloa,  belong  to  the 
same  school,  which  was  continued,  by  Texada  Gomes 
de  los  Reyes,  Barrios  the  Jew,  and  Inez  de  la  Cruz  the 
Mexican  nun,  down  to  the  end  of  the  century.  But  in 
all  its  forms,  whether  tending  to  become  too  lyrical,  as 
it  does  in  Eigueroa,  or  too  narrative,  as  in  Espinosa, 

(Madrid,  1587,  12mo,)  “ They  would  Espinosa,  f.  48,  and  that  of  Tapia  oc- 
be  better,  if  they  were  fewer.”  They  curs — where  we  should  hardly  look 
hll  above  nine  hundred  pages,  and  are  for  it  — in  the  “ Libro  de  Monteria,  que 
in  all  forms  and  styles.  Padilla  died  mando  escribir  el  Rey  Don  Alfonso 
as  late  as  1599.  XL,”  edited  by  Argote  de  IMolina, 

14  There  are  six  of  them,  in  terza  1582.  It  is  on  the  woods  of  Aran- 
and  ottava  rima,  with  a few  lyrical  juez,  and  was  written  after  the  birth 
poems  interspersed,  in  other  measures  of  a daughter  of  Philip  II. ; but  its 
and  in  a better  tone,  in  a volume  en-  descriptions  are  long  and  wearisome, 
titled  “ Versos Espirituales,”  Cuenca,  16  Rimas,  1591,  ff.  50-57. 

1596,  12mo.  Their  author  was  a u Espinosa  includes  it  in  his  “ Flo- 
monk.  res,”  f.  107. 

15  The  eclogue  of  Morales  is  in 

B 


14  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE  [Period  H. 

Spanish  pastoral  poetry  shows  fewer  of  the  defects  that 
accompany  such  poetry  everywhere,  and  more  of  the 
merits  that  render  it  a gentle  and  idealized  represen- 
tation of  nature  and  country  life,  than  can  perhaps  be 
found  m any  other  literature  of  modern  times.  The 
reason  is,  that  there  was  more  of  a true  pastoral  char- 
acter in  Spain  on  which  to  build  it.^^ 

Quite  as  characteristic  of  the  Spanish  national  genius 
as  its  pastorals  were  short  poems  m different  forms,  but 
in  an  epigrammatic  spirit,  which  appeared  through  the 
whole  of  the  best  age  of  its  literature.  They  are  of 
two  kinds.  The  first  are  generally  amorous,  and  always 
sentimental.  Of  these,  not  a few  are  very  short  and 
pointed.  They  are  found  in  the  old  Cancioneros  and 
Romanceros,  among  the  works  of  Maldonado,  Silvestre, 
Villegas,  Gongora,  and  others  of  less  merit,  to  the  end 
of  the  century.  They  are  generally  in  the  truest  tone 
of  popular  verse.  One,  which  was  set  to  music,  was 
in  these  few  simple  words : — 

To  what  ear  shall  I tell  my  griefs. 

Gentle  love  mine  1 
To  what  ear  shall  I tell  my  griefs. 

If  not  to  thine  1 

And  another,  of  the  same  period,  which  was  on  a Sigh, 
and  became  the  subject  of  more  than  one  gloss,  was 
hardly  less  simple : — 


18  The  authors  mentioned  in  this 
paragraph  are,  I believe,  all  more 
amply  noticed  elsewhere,  except  Pfe- 
dro  Soto  de  Roxas.  He  was  a friend 
of  Lope  de  Vega,  and  published  in 
Madrid,  1623,  4to,  his  “ Desengano 
de  Amor,”  — a volume  of  poems  in 
the  Italian  manner,  the  best  of  which 
are  the  madrigals  and  eclogues. 


19  A quien  contare  yo  mis  quejas. 

Mi  lindo  amor ; 

A quien  contare  mis  quejas, 

Si  a VOS  no  ? 

Faber  found  this  and  a few  more  in 
Salina’s  treatise  on  Music,  1577,  and 
placed  it,  with  a considerable  number 
of  similar  short  compositions,  in  the 
first  volume  of  his  collection,  pp.  303, 
etc. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


EPIGRAMMATIC  POETRY. 


15 


0 gentle  sigh  ! O gentle  sigh  ! 

For  no  more  happiness  I pray, 

Than,  every  time  thou  goest  to  God, 

To  follow  where  thou  lead’st  the  way.^o 


But  of  those  a little  longer  and  more  elaborate  a fa- 
vorable specimen  may  be  found  in  Camoens,  who  wrote 
such  with  tenderness  and  beauty,  not  only  in  his  own 
language,  but  sometimes  in  Spanish,  as  in  the  following- 
lines  on  a concealed  and  unhappy  passion,  the  first  two 
of  which  are  probably  a snatch  of  some  old  song,  and 
the  rest  his  own  gloss  upon  them : — 


Within,  within,  my  sorrow  lives. 
But  outwardly  no  token  gives. 

All  young  and  gentle  in  the  soul, 
All  hidden  from  men’s  eyes. 

Deep,  deep  within  it  lies, 

And  scorns  the  body’s  low  control. 
As  in  the  flint  the  hidden  spark 
Gives  outwardly  no  sign  or  mark. 
Within,  within,  my  sorrow  lives. 


The  number  of  such  compositions,  in  their  different 
serious  forms,  is  great ; but  the  number  of  the  second 
kind  — those  in  a lighter  and  livelier  tone  — is  still 
greater.  The  Argensolas,  Villegas,  Lope  de  Vega,  Que- 
vedo,  the  Prince  Esquilache,  Rebolledo,  and  not  a few 
others,  wrote  them  with  spirit  and  effect.  Of  all,  how- 
ever, who  indulged  in  them,  nobody  devoted  to  their 
composition  so  much  zeal,  and  on  the  whole  obtained 
so  much  success,  as  Francisco  de  la  Torre,  who,  though 


20  O dulce  suspire  mio ! 

No  quisiera  dicha  mas, 

Que  las  veces  que  4 Dios  vas 
Hallarme  donde  te  envio. 


El  alma  sola  la  siente, 

Qu’  el  cuerpo  no  es  diiio  della: 
Como  la  viva  senlella 
S’  encubre  en  el  pedernal, 

De  denlro  lengo  mi  mal. 


Ubeda,  1588,  was  the  first,  I think, 
who  paraphrased  this  epigram ; but 
where  he  discovered  it  I do  not  know. 


Several  that  precede  and  follow,  both 
in  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  are  worth 
notice. 


Camoes,  Rimas,  Lisboa,  1593,  4to,  f.  179. 


21  De  denlro  lengo  mi  mal, 

Que  de  fora  no  ay  senal. 

Mi  nueva  y dulce  querella 
Es  invisible  4 la  genie : 


16 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


of  the  culto  school,  seemed  able  to  shake  olf  much  of 
its  influence,  when  he  remembered  that  he  was  a fellow- 
countryman  of  Martial. 

He  took  for  the  foundation  of  his  humor  the  re- 
markable Latin  epigrams  of  John  Owen,  the  English 
Protestant,  who  died  in  1622,  and  whose  witty  volume 
has  been  often  translated  and  printed  at  home  and 
abroad  down  to  our  own  times ; — a volume,  it  should 
be  noted,  so  offensive  to  the  Pomish  Church  as  to  have 
been  early  placed  on  its  Index  Expurgatorius.  But 
La  Torre  avoided  whatever  could  give  umbrage  to  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  of  his  time,  and,  adding  a great 
number  of  original  epigrams  quite  as  good  as  those  he 
translated,  made  a collection  that  Alls  two  volumes,  the 
last  of  which  was  printed  in  1682,  after  its  author’s 
death.^^ 

But  though  he  wrote  more  good  epigrams,  and  in  a 
greater  variety  of  forms,  than  any  other  individual  Span- 
iard, he  did  not,  perhaps,  write  the  best  or  the  most  na- 
tional ; for  a few  of  those  that  still  I'emain  anonymous, 
and  a still  smaller  number  by  Rebolledo,  seem  to  claim 
this  distinction.  Of  the  sort  of  wit  frequently  affected 
in  these  slight  compositions  the  following  is  an  exam- 
ple; — 

Fair  lady,  when  your  beads  you  take, 

I never  doubt  you  pray  ; 

Perhaps  for  my  poor  murdered  sake. 

Perhaps  for  yours,  that  slay.^S 


22  “ Agudezas  de  Juan  Oven,  etc.,  23  Pues  el  rosario  tomais, 

, , t;,  • 11  No  QUQO  que  le  receis 

con  Adiciones  por  x rancisco  de  la  pq,.  qyg  mueno  me  habeis, 

Torre,”  Madrid,  1674,  1682,  2 tom.  O por  vos,  que  me  matais. 

4to.  Oven  is  the  Owen  or  Audoenus  of  Obras,  1778,  Tom.  I.  p.  337. 

Wood’s  “ Athenae  Oxon.,”  Tom.  II. 

p.  320.  His  “ Epigrammata,”  printed  Camoens  had  the  same  idea  in  some 
about  a dozen  times  between  1606  and  Portuguese  redondillas,  (Rimas,  1598, 
1795,  were  placed  on  the  list  of  pro-  f.  159,)  so  that  I suspect  both  of  them 
hibited  books  in  1654.  Index,  Romse,  took  it  from  some  old  popular  epi- 
1786,  8vo,  p.  216.  gram. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


DIDACTIC  POETRY. 


17 


Rebolledo  was  sometimes  happier  than  he  is  in  this 
epigram,  though  rarely  more  national. 


Didactic  poetry  in  unsettled  and  uncertain  forms  ap- 
peared early  in  Spain,  and  took,  from  time  to  time,  the 
air  both  of  moral  philosophy  and  of  religious  instruc- 
tion. Specimens  of  it  in  the  old  long-line  stanza  are 
found  from  the  age  of  Berceo  to  that  of  the  chancellor 
Ayala;  few,  indeed,  in  number,  but  sufficiently  marked 
in  character  to  show  their  purpose.  Later,  examples  be- 
come more  numerous,  and  present  themselves  in  forms 
somewhat  improved.  Several  such  occur  in  the  Can- 
cioneros,  among  the  best  of  which  are  Luduena’s 
Rules  for  Good-Breeding  ” ; “The  Complaint  of  For- 
tune,” in  imitation  of  Bias,  by  Diego  de  San  Pedro ; 
and  the  “ Coplas  ” of  Don  Juan  Manuel  of  Portugal, 
on  the  Seven  Deadly  Sins ; — all  of  them  authors 
known  at  the  court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  Bos- 
can’s  poem  on  his  own  Conversion,  that  of  Silvestre  on 
“ Self-knowledge,”  that  of  Castilla  on  “ The  Virtues,” 
and  that  of  Juan  de  Mendoza  on  “ A Happy  Life,” 
continue  the  series  through  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Fifth,  but  without  materially  advancing  its  claims  or 
its  character.^"* 


-■1  The  poems  of  Boscan  and  Sil- 
vestre  are  found  in  their  respective 
works,  already  examined ; but  of 
Francisco  de  Castilla  and  of  Juan 
de  Mendoza  and  their  poetry  it  may 
be  proper  to  give  some  notice,  as  their 
names  have  not  occurred  before. 

Castilla  was  a gentleman  apparent- 
ly of  the  old  national  type,  descended 
from  an  illegitimate  branch  of  the 
family  of  Pedro  el  Cruel.  He  lived 
in  the  time  of  Charles  V.,  and  passed 
his  youth  near  the  person  of  that  great 
sovereign  ; but,  as  he  says  in  a letter 
to  his  brother,  the  Bishop  of  Cala- 
horra,  he  at  last  “ withdrew  himself, 

3 


disgusted  alike  with  the  abhorred  rab- 
ble and  senseless  life  of  the  court,” 
and  “ chose  the  estate  of  matrimony, 
as  one  more  safe  for  his  soul  and  bet- 
ter suited  to  his  worldly  condition.” 
How  he  fared  in  this  experiment  he 
docs  not  tell  us  ; but,  missing,  in  the 
retirement  it  brought  with  it,  those 
pleasures  of  social  intercourse  to  which 
he  had  been  accustomed,  he  bought,  as 
he  says,  “ with  a small  sum  of  money, 
other  surer  and  wiser  friends,”  whose 
counsels  and  teachings  he  put  into 
verse,  that  his  weak  memory  might  the 
better  preserve  them.  The  result  of 
this  life  merely  contemplative  was  a 


VOL.  III. 


18  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II, 

In  the  age  of  Philip  the  Second,  the  didactic,  like 
most  of  the  other  branches  of  Spanish  poetry,  spreads 
out  more  broadly.  Francisco  de  Guzman’s  “ Opinions 


book,  in  which  he  gives  us,  first,  his 
“Theorica  de  Virtudes,”  or  an  expla- 
nation, in  the  old  short  Spanish  verse, 
accompanied  with  a prose  gloss,  of 
the  different  Virtues,  ending  with  the 
vengeful  Nemesis;  next,  a Treatise  on 
Friendship,  in  long  nine-line  stanzas  ; 
and  then,  successively,  a Satire  on 
Human  Life  and  its  vain  comforts ; an 
Allegory  on  Worldly  Happiness;  a 
series  of  Exhortations  to  Virtue  and 
Holiness,  which  he  has  unsuitably 
called  Proverbs ; and  a short  discus- 
sion, in  dkimas,  on  the  Immaculate 
Conception.  At  the  end,  separately 
paged,  as  if  it  were  quite  a distinct 
treatise,  we  have  a counterpart  to  the 
“ Theorica  de  Virtudes,”  called  the 
“ Pratica  de  las  Virtudes  de  los  Bue- 
nos Reyes  de  Espaiia  ” ; a poem  in 
above  two  hundred  octave  stanzas,  on 
the  Virtues  of  the  Kings  of  Spain,  be- 
ginning with  Alaric  the  Goth  and  end- 
ing with  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  to 
whom  he  dedicates  it  with  abundance 
of  courtly  flattery.  The  whole  vol- 
ume, both  in  the  prose  and  verse,  is 
written  in  the  strong  old  Castilian 
style,  sometimes  encumbered  with 
learning,  but  oftener  rich,  pithy,  and 
flowing.  The  following  stanza,  writ- 
ten, apparently,  when  its  author  was 
already  disgusted  with  his  court  life, 
but  had  not  given  it  up,  may  serve  as 
a specimen  of  his  best  manner  : — 

Nunca  tanto  el  marinero 
Desseo  llegar  al  puerlo 
Con  fortuna; 

Ni  en  haialla  el  buen  guerrero 
Ser  de  su  vicloria  cierto 
Quando  puna ; 

Ni  madre  al  ausenle  hijo 
Por  mar  con  lanla  aficion 
Le  desseo, 

Como  haver  un  escondrijo 
Sin  contienda  en  un  rincon 
Desseo  yo. 

f.  45.  b. 

Never  did  mariner  desire 
To  reach  his  destined  port 
With  happy  fate ; 

Ne’er  did  good  warrior,  in  the  fire 
Of  battle,  victory  court, 

With  hopes  elate ; 

Nor  mother  for  her  child’s  dear  life, 
Tossed  on  the  stormy  wave 
So  earnest  pray, 


As  I for  some  safe  cave 

To  hide  me  from  this  restless  strife 

In  peace  away. 

An  edition  of  Castilla’s  very  rare 
volume  may  liave  been  printed  about 
1536,  when  it  was  licensed ; but  1 
have  never  seen  it,  nor  any  notice  of 
it.  The  one  of  which  I have  a copy 
was  printed  at  Zaragoza,  4to,  lit.  got. . 
1552 ; and  I believe  there  is  one  of 
Alcala,  either  in  1554  or  1564,  8vo. 

The  poetry  of  Juan  Hurtado  de 
Mendoza,  who  was  Regidor  of  Madrid, 
and  a member  of  the  Cortes  of  1544. 
is,  perhaps,  more  rare  than  that  of 
Castilla,  and  is  contained  in  a small 
volume  printed  at  Alcala  in  1550,  and 
entitled  “Buen  Placer  trovado en  treze 
discantes  de  quarta  rima  Castellana 
segun  imitacion  de  trobas  Francesas,” 
etc.  It  consists  of  thirteen  discourses 
on  a happy  life,  its  means  and  mo- 
tives, all  written  in  stanzas  of  four 
lines  each,  which  their  author  calls 
French,  I suppose,  because  they  are 
longer  lines  than  those  in  the  old  na- 
tional measures,  and  rhymed  alter- 
nately,— the  rhymes  of  one  stanza 
running  into  the  next.  At  the  end  is 
a Canto  Real,  as  it  is  called,  on  a 
verse  in  the  Psalms,  composed  in  the 
same  manner  ; and  several  smaller  po- 
ems, one  of  which  is  a kind  of  relig- 
ious villancico,  and  four  of  them  son- 
nets. The  tone  of  the  whole  is  didac- 
tic, and  its  poetical  value  small.  I 
cite  eight  lines,  as  a specimen  of  its 
peculiar  manner  and  rhymes ; — 

Errado  va  quien  busca  ser  contento 
En  mal  plazer  mortal,  que  como  heno 
Se  seca  y passa  como  humo  en  viento, 

De  vanos  tragos  de  ayre  muy  relleno. 

Quando  las  negras  velas  van  en  lleno 
Del  mal  plazer,  villano  peligroso, 

De  buen  principio  y de  buen  fin  ageno, 

No  halla  en  esta  vida  su  reposo. 

Mendoza  was  a person  of  much  con- 
sideration in  his  time,  and  is  noticed 
as  such  by  Quintana,  (Historia  de 
Madrid,  Madrid,  1629,  folio,)  who 
gives  one  of  his  sonnets  at  f.  27,  and 
a sketch  of  his  character  at  f.  245. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


DIDACTIC  POETRY. 


19 


of  Wise  Men,”  and  especially  his  dull  allegory  of 
“ Moral  Triumphs,”  in  imitation  of  Petrarch,  are,  for 
their  length,  the  most  important  of  the  different  didac- 
tic poems  which  that  period  produced.^^  But  more 
characteristic  than  either  is  the  deeply  religious  letter 
of  Francisco  de  Aldana  to  Montano,  in  1573 ; and 
much  more  beautiful  and  touching  than  either  is  one 
Avritten  at  about  the  same  time  by  Juan  Bufo  to  his 
infant  son,  filled  AAnth  gentle  affection  and  Avise  counsels. 

Neither  should  a call  made  by  Aldana,  in  the  name 
of  military  glory,  to  Philip  himself,  urging  liim  to  de- 
fend the  suffering  Church,  he  overlooked.  It  breathes 
the  A'ery  spirit  of  its  subject,  and  may  Avell  be  put  in 
direct  contrast  Avith  the  earnest  and  sad  persuasions  to 
peace  by  Virues,  Avho  Avas  yet  a soldier  by  profession, 
and  Avith  Cantoral’s  Avinning  invitation  to  the  quiet- 
ness of  a country  life.  Some  of  the  religious  poetry 
of  Diego  de  Morillo  and  Pedro  de  Salas,  in  the  next 
reigns,  Avith  several  of  the  Avise  epistles  of  the  Argen- 
solas,  Artieda,  and  Mesa,  should  be  added ; but  they  are 
all  comparatively  short  poems,  except  those  by  Mori- 
llo on  the  Words  of  Christ  upon  the  Cross,  Avhich  ex- 
tend to  seA^eral  hundred  lines  on  each  Avord,  and  which, 
though  disfigured  by  antithesis  and  exaggeration,  are 
strongly  marked  specimens  of  the  Catholic  didactic 
spirit. 

In  the  mean  time,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  group, 
— partly  because  the  Avay  had  been  already  prepared 
for  it  by  the  publication,  in  1591,  of  a good  translation 
of  Horace’s  “ Art  of  Poetry  ” by  Espinel,  and  partly 

23  The  “ Tiiunfos  Morales  de  Fran-  head  of  “ The  Triumph  of  Wisdom,” 
cisco  de  Guzman”  (Sevilla,  1581,  the  opinions  of  the  wise  men  of  an- 
12mo)  are  imitations  of  Petrarca’s  tiquity;  and  under  the  head  of  “ The 
'•  Trionfi,”  but  are  much  more  didac-  Triumph  of  Prudence,”  the  general 
tic,  giving,  for  instance,  under  the  rules  for  prudent  conduct. 


20 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


from  other  causes, — we  have,  at  last,  a proper  didac- 
tic poem,  or  rather  an  attempt  at  one.  It  is  by  Juan 
de  la  Cueva,  who  in  1605  wrote  in  terza  rinia  three 
epistles,  which  he  entitled  “ Egemplar  Poetico,”  and 
which  constitute  the  oldest  formal  and  original  effort 
of  the  kind  in  the  Spanish  language.  Regarded  as  a 
whole,  they  are,  indeed,  far  from  being  a complete  Art 
of  Poetry,  and  in  some  parts  they  are  injudicious  and 
inconsequent ; but  they  not  unfrequently  contain  pas- 
sages of  acute  criticism  in  flowing  verse,  and  they  have, 
besides,  the  merit  of  nationality  in  their  tone.  In  all 
respects,  they  are  better  than  an  absurd  didactic  poem, 
by  the  same  author,  on  “ The  Inventors  of  Things,” 
which  he  wrote  three  years  later,  and  which  shows,  as 
he  showed  elsewhere,  that  he  adventured  in  too  many 
departments.^^ 

Pablo  de  Cespcdes,  a sculptor  and  painter  of  the 
same  period,  — now  better  known  as  a man  of  learning 
and  a poet,  — came  nearer  to  success  than  Cueva.  He 
was  born  in  1538,  at  Cordova,  and  died  there,  a minor 

\ 

canon  of  its  magnificent  cathedral,  at  the  age  of  sev- 
enty; but  he  spent  a part  of  his  life  in  Italy  and  at 
Seville,  and  devoted  much  of  his  leisure  to  letters. 
Among  other  works,  he  began  a poem,  in  ottava  rinia. 


26  The  “Arte  Poetica”  of  Espinel 
is  the  first  thing-  published  in  the 
“ Parnaso  Espaiiol  ” of  Sedano,  1768, 
and  was  vehemently  attacked  by  Yri- 
arte,  when,  in  1777,  he  printed  his 
own  translation  of  the  same  work. 
(Obras  de  Yriarte,  Madrid,  1805, 
ISmo,  Tom.  IV.)  To  this  Sedano 
replied  in  the  ninth  volume  of  his 
“ Parnaso,”  1778.  Yriarte  rejoined 
in  a satirical  dialogue,  “ Donde  las 
dan  las  toman”  (Obras,  Tom.  VI.) ; 
and  Sedano  closed  the  controversy 
with  the  “ Coloquios  de  Espina,” 
Malaga,  1785,  2 tom.  12mo,  under  the 


name  of  Juan  Maria  Chavero  y Esla- 
va.  It  is  a very  pretty  literary  quar- 
rel, quite  in  the  Spanish  manner. 

■2''  The  “Egemplar  Poetico”  of 
Cueva  was  first  printed  in  the  eighth 
volume  of  the  “ Parnaso  Espaiiol,” 
1774  ; and  the  “ Inventores  de  las  Ca- 
sas,” taken  generally  from  Polydore 
Virgil,  and  dated  1608,  -was  first  pub- 
lished in  the  ninth  volume  of  the  same 
collection,  1778.  How  absurd  the 
last  is  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact, 
that  it  makes  Moses  the  inventor  of 
hexameter  verse,  and  Alexander  the 
Great  the  oldest  of  paper-makers. 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


DIDACTIC  POETRY. 


21 


on  “ The  Art  of  Painting.”  Whether  it  was  ever  fin- 
ished is  uncertain;  but  all  we  possess  of  it  is  a series 
of  fragments,  amounting,  when  taken  together,  to  six 
or  seven  hundred  lines,  which  were  inserted  in  a prose 
treatise  on  the  same  subject  by  his  friend  Francisco  Pa- 
checo, and  printed  above  forty  years  after  their  author’s 
death.  They  are,  however,  such  as  to  make  us  regret 
that  we  have  received  no  more.  Their  versification  is 
excellent,  and  their  poetical  energy  and  compactness  are 
uniform.  Perhaps  the  best  passage  that  has  been  pre- 
served is  the  description  of  a horse,  — the  animal  of 
whose  race  the  poet’s  native  city  has  always  been  proud, 
— and  of  which,  it  is  evident,  a single  noble  individ- 
ual was  pictured  before  his  mind  as  he  wrote.  But 
other  portions  show  much  talent,  — perhaps  more  than 
this  does ; especially  one  in  which  he  explains  the 
modes  of  acquiring  practical  skill  in  his  art,  and  that 
more  poetical  one  in  which  he  discusses  color.^ 

But  the  poems  of  Cueva  and  Cespedes  were  not 
printed  till  long  after  the  death  of  their  authors;  and 
none  of  their  contemporaries  was  inspired  by  like  in- 


28  What  remains  of  Cespedes’s  po- 
etry is  to  be  found  in  the  eighteenth 
volume  of  F ernandez’s  collection.  His 
life  is  well  set  forth  in  the  excellent 
“ Diccionario  de  los  Profesores  de  las 
Bellas  Artes,  por  A.  Cean  Bermudez,” 
Madrid,  1800,  6 tom.  12mo,Tom.  I.  p. 
316 ; besides  which,  its  learned  au- 
thor, at  the  end  of  Tom.  V.,  has  re- 
published the  fragments  of  the  poem 
on  Painting  in  a better  order  than  that 
in  which  they  had  before  appeared  ; 
adding  a pleasant  prose  discourse,  in 
a pure  style,  on  Ancient  and  Modern 
Painting  and  Sculpture,  which  Cespe- 
des wrote  in  1604,  when  recovering 
from  a fever,  and  two  other  of  his  tri- 
fles ; to  the  whole  of  which  is  prefixed 
a judicious  Preface  by  Cean  himself. 
Cespedes  had  been  a Greek  scholar  in 


his  youth,  and  says,  that,  in  his  old 
age,  when  he  chanced  to  open  Pindar, 
he  “ never  failed  to  find  a well-drawn 
and  rich  picture,  grand  and  fit  for  Mi- 
chel Angelo  to  paint.”  He  was  a 
friend  of  Carranza,  the  great  arch- 
bishop, who,  after  being  a leading 
member  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  and 
confessor  of  Mary  of  England  after 
she  married  Philip  II.,  was  worried 
to  death  by  the  Inquisition  in  1576. 
(See,  ante,  Vol.  I.  p.  466.)  Cespedes 
himself  came  near  suffering  from  a 
similar  persecution,  in  consequence  of 
a letter  he  wrote  to  Carranza  in  1559, 
in  which  he  spoke  disrespectfully  of 
the  Grand  Inquisitor  and  the  Holy 
Office.  Llorente,  Hist.,  Tom.  H. 
p.  440. 


22 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 


fluences.  The  best  that  was  done  in  didactic  poetry, 
at  about  the  same  time,  was  the  slight,  but  pleasant, 
sort  of  defence  of  his  own  irregularities  produced  by 
Lope  de  Vega,  under  the  name  of  “ The  New  Art  of 
Writing  Plays  ” ; and  the  best,  written  later  in  the  cen- 
tury, were  the  “ Selvas,”  as  he  called  them,  or  poems 
in  irregular  verse,  by  Count  Rebolledo,  on  the  Arts  of 
War  and  Civil  Government,  which  date  from  1652, 
but  which  are  little  more  than  rhymed  prose.  A long- 
poem  in  ten  cantos,  and  in  the  old  quintilla  verse,  by 
Trapeza,  published  in  1612,  and  entitled  “The  Cross,” 
because  it  is  a sort  of  exposition  of  all  the  theological 
virtues  attributed  to  that  holy  emblem,  is  too  dull  to 
be  noticed,  even  if  it  were  more  strictly  didactic  in  its 
form.^^’ 

Some  other  kindred  attempts  should,  however,  be  re- 
membered, of  which  the  oldest,  made  in  the  spirit  of 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  throughout  Eu- 
rope, were  in  the  form  called  “ Emblems,”  or  explana- 
tions in  verse  for  hieroglj^phical  devices.  The  most 
successful  of  these  Avere  probably  the  Emblems  of  Da- 
za,  in  1549,  imitated  from  the  more  famous  Latin  ones 
of  Alciatus ; and  those  of  Covarrubias,  published  orig- 
inally in  Spanish  by  their  author  in  1591,  and  after- 
Avards  translated  by  him  into  Latin ; — both  of  them 
curious  specimens  of  this  peculiar  style  of  composition, 
and  as  agreeable,  perhaps,  as  any  Avhich  the  age  of 
Emblems  produced.^'^ 

29  Lope’s  “ Arte  Nuevo  ” has  been  peza,”  Madrid,  1612,  12mo,  pp.  368, 
already  noticed.  The  “ Selva  Militar  to  which  are  added  a few  pages  of 
y Politica  ” of  Rebolledo  was  first  short  poems  on  the  Cross, 
printed  at  Cologne,  in  1652,  18mo,  its  90  “ Los  Emblemas  de  Alciato,  etc., 
author  being  then  Spanish  minister  in  aiiadidos  de  nuevos  Emblemas,”  Ly- 
Denmark,  of  whose  kings  he  has  given  on,  1549,  4to,  — on  the  Index  Expur- 
a sort  of  genealogical  history  in  another  gatorius  of  1790.  Those  of  Covarru- 
poem,  his  “ Selvas  Danicas.” — La  bias  were  printed  in  Spanish  in  1591 ; 
Cruz,  por  Albanio  Ramirez  de  laTra-  and  in  Spanish  and  Latin,  Agrigenti, 


Chap.  XXXI.] 


DESCRIPTIVE  POETRY. 


23 


The  other  form  was  that  in  which  the  didactic  runs 
into  the  descriptive.  Of  this  the  most  poetical  exam- 
ple in  Spanish  is  by  Dicastillo,  a Carthusian  monk,  at 
Saragossa,  who  published,  in  1637,  under  the  auspices 
of  his  friend  Mencos,  a long  poetical  correspondence, 
intended  to  teach  the  vanity  of  human  things,  and  the 
happiness  and  merit  to  be  found  in  a life  of  peniten- 
tial seclusion.  The  parts  that  relate  to  the  author  him- 
self are  sometimes  touching ; but  the  rest  is  of  very 
unequal  worth,  — the  better  portions  being  devoted  to 
a description  of  the  grand  and  sombre  monastery  of 
which  he  was  an  inmate,  and  of  the  observances  to 
which  his  life  there  was  devoted.^^  Castilian  verse, 
however,  did  not  often  take  a descriptive  character, 
except  when  it  appeared  in  the  form  of  eclogues  and 
idyls ; and  even  then  it  is  almost  always  marked  by 
an  ingenuity  and  brilliancy  far  from  the  healthy  tone 
inspired  by  a sincere  love  of  what  is  grand  or  beauti- 
ful in  nature;  — a remark  which  finds  ample  illustration 
in  the  poems  devoted  to  the  Spanish  conquests  in 
America,  where  the  marvellous  tropical  vegetation  of 
the  valleys  through  which  the  wild  adventurers  wound 
their  way,  and  the  snow-capped  volcanoes  that  crowned 
the  sierras  above  their  heads,  seem  to  have  failed  alike 
to  stir  their  imaginations  or  overawe  their  courage.^^ 


1601,  12mo  ; — the  last,  a thick  vol- 
ume, with  a long  and  learned  Latin 
dissertation  on  Emblems  prefixed. 
tJovarrubias  was  brother  of  the  lexi- 
cographer of  the  same  name.  Teso- 
ro,  Art.  Emblema. 

“ Aula  de  Dios,  Cartuxa  Real  de 
Zaragoza.  Descrive  la  Vida  de  sus 
Monjes,  acusa  la  Yanidad  del  Siglo, 
etc.,  consagrala  a la  Utilidad  Piibli- 
ca  Don  Miguel  de  Mencos,”  Zarago- 
za, 1637,  4to.  They  are  written  in 
silvas,  and  their  true  author’s  name  is 
indicated  hy  puns  in  some  of  the  laud- 
atory verses  that  precede  the  work. 


32  The  pleasantest,  if  not  the  most 
important  exception  to  this  remark, 
which  I recollect,  is  to  be  found  in  an 
epistle  by  the  friend  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
Cristovai  de  Virues,  to  his  brother, 
dated  June  17,  1600,  and  giving  an 
account  of  his  passage  over  the  Saint 
Gothard  with  a body  of  troops.  It  is 
in  blank  verse  that  is  not  very  exact, 
but  the  descriptions  are  very  good, 
and  marked  with  the  feeling  of  that 
stern  scenery.  Obras,  1609,  f.  269. 


24 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


But  except  these  irregular  varieties  of  didactic  poetry, 
we  have,  for  the  whole  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  nothing  to  add  to  what  we  have  already  no- 
ticed, beyond  a repetition  of  the  old  forms  of  epistles 
and  silvas,  which  so  frequently  occur  in  the  works  of 
Castillejo,  Ledesma,  Lope  de  Vega,  Jauregui,  Zarate,  and 
their  contemporaries.  Nor  could  we  reasonably  expect 
more.  Neither  the  popular  character  of  Spanish  poetry, 
nor  the  severe  nature  of  the  Spanish  ecclesiastical  and 
political  constitutions  of  government,  was  favorable  to 
the  development  of  this  particular  form  of  verse,  or  like- 
ly to  tolerate  it  on  any  important  subject.  Didactic 
poetry  remained,  therefore,  at  the  end  of  the  period,  as 
it  was  at  the  beginning,  one  of  the  feeblest  and  least 
successful  departments  of  the  national  literature.^^ 

33  The  shorter  poems,  noticed  as  to,  or  in  the  works  of  their  respective 
didactic,  are  found  in  the  Cancioneros  authors, 
and  other  collections  already  referred 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


Ballad  Poetry  cultivated;  Sepulveda,  Fuentes,  Timoneda,  Padilla, 
CuEVA,  Hita,  Hidalgo,  Valdivielso,  Lope  de  Vega,  Arellano,  Roca  y 
Serna,  Esquilache,  Mendoza,  Quevedo.  — Romanceros  of  more  Popu- 
lar Ballads  : The  Twelve  Peers,  the  Cid,  and  others.  — Great 
Number  of  Writers  of  Ballads. 


The  collection  and  publication  of  the  popular  ballads 
of  the  country  in  the  Cancioneros  and  Romanceros,  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  attracted  to  them  a kind  and  de- 
gree of  attention  they  had  failed  to  receive  during  the 
long  period  in  which  they  had  been  floating  about 
among  the  unrecorded  traditions  of  the  common  people. 
There  was  so  much  that  was  beautiful  in  them,  so 
much  that  appealed  successfully  to  the  best  recollec- 
tions of  all  classes,  so  much  directly  connected  with 
the  great  periods  of  the  national  glory,  that  the  minds 
of  all  were  stirred  by  them,  as  soon  as  they  appeared 
in  a permanent  form,  and  they  became,  at  once,  favor- 
ites of  the  more  cultivated  portion  of  the  people,  as 
they  had  always  been  of  the  humble  hearts  that  gave 
them  birth.  The  natural  consequence  followed  ; — they 
were  imitated ; — and  not  merely  by  poets  who  occa- 
sionally wrote  in  this  among  other  forms  of  verse,  but 
by  persons  who  composed  them  in  large  numbers  and 
published  them  by  volumes.^ 

1 When  looking  through  any  of  the  those  produced  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
large  collections  of  ballads,  especially  tury  by  the  popularity  of  the  whole 

VOL.  III.  4 


c 


26 


I 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


The  first  of  these  persons  was  Lorenzo  de  Sepulveda, 
whose  Ballad-book  can  be  traced  back  to  1551,  the  very 
year  after  the  appearance,  at  Saragossa,  of  the  earliest 
collection  of  popular  and  anonymous  ballads,  gathered 
from  the  memories  of  the  people.  The  attempt  of  Se- 
pulveda Avas  made  in  the  right  direction ; for  he  founded 
it  almost  entirely  on  the  old  Castilian  Chronicles,  and 
appealed,  as  they  did,  to  popular  tradition  and  the 
national  feelings  for  his  support.  In  his  Preface,  he 
says,  that  his  ballads  “ ought  to  be  more  savory  than 
many  others,  because  not  only  are  they  true  and  drawn 
from  the  truest  histories  he  could  find,  but  written  in 
the  Castilian  measure  and  in  the  tone  of  the  old  ballads, 
which,”  he  adds,  ‘•’■is  now  in  fashion.  TheyAvere  taken,” 
he  declares,  “literally  from  the  Chronicle  Avhich  Avas 
compiled  by  the  most  serene  king  Don  Alfonso ; the 
same  Avho,  for  his  good  letters  and  royal  desires,  and 
great  learning  in  all  branches  of  knoAvledge,  Avas  called 
‘ The  Wise.’  ” In  fact,  more  than  three  fourths  of  this 
curious  volume  consist  of  ballads  taken  from  the  “Gen- 
eral Chronicle  of  Spain,”  often  employing  its  very  Avords, 
and  ahvays  imbued  Avith'its  spirit.  The  rest  is  made 
up  chiefly  of  ballads  founded  on  sacred  and  ancient 
history,  or  on  mythological  and  other  stories  of  an  im- 
aginary nature. 

But,  unfortunately,  Sepuh’eda  Avas  not  truly  a poet, 
and  therefore,  though  he  sought  his  subjects  in  good 
sources  and  seldom  failed  to  select  them  Avell,  he  yet 
failed  to  give  any  more  of  a poetical  coloring  to  his 
ballads  than  he  found  in  the  old  chronicles  he  followed. 
He  AAUS,  hoAA^ever,  successful  as  far  as  the  general  favor 

class  and  the  facility  of  their  metrical  “ There  is  nothing  easier  than  to 
structure,  we  find  pertinent  an  ex-  make  a ballad,  and  nothing  more  dif- 
cellent  remark  of  Rengifo,  in  his  ficult  than  to  make  it  what  it  ought  to 
“Arte  Poetica,”  1592,  p.  38: — be.” 


Chap.  XXXII.] 


BALLADS.  —FUENTES. 


27 


was  concerneif;  for  not  only  was  his  entire  work  re- 
printed at  least  four  times,  but  the  separate  ballads  in 
it  constantly  reappear  in  the  old  collections  ^ that  were, 
from  time  to  time,  published  to  meet  the  popular  de- 
mand. 

Quite  as  characteristic  of  the  period  is  a small  selec- 
tion of  ballads  printed  for  the  first  time  in  1564.  It 
was  made  by  some  person  of  distinction,  who  sent  it  to 
Alonso  de  Fuentes,  with  a request  that  he  would  fur- 
nish it  with  all  needful  explanations  in  prose.  This  he 
did ; but  the  original  collector  died  before  it  was  pub- 
lished. Of  the  forty  ballads  of  which  it  consists,  ten 
are  on  subjects  from  the  Bible;  ten  from  Roman  his- 
tory ; ten  from  other  portions  of  ancient  history ; and 
the  remainder  from  the  history  of  Spain,  coming  down 
to  the  fall  of  Granada,  We  are  not  told  where  the}' 
were  obtained,  and  none  of  them  has  much  value ; — 
the  great  merit  of  the  whole,  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
were  concerned  in  their  publication,  consisting,  no 
doubt,  in  the  wearisome  historical  and  moral  com- 
mentary by  which  each  is  followed. 

Fuentes,  however,  who  intimates  that  the  task  was 
hardly  worthy  of  his  position,  may  have  had  a better 
taste  in  such  things  than  the  person  who  employed 
him ; for,  in  a prefatory  epistle,  he  gives  us,  of  his  own 
accord,  the  following  ballad,  evidently  very  old,  if  not 
very  spirited,  which  he  attributes  to  Alfonso  the  Wise. 
But  it  is  no  otherwise  the  work  of  that  monarch 
than  that  all  but  the  last  stanzas  are  taken  from  the 

2 “ Romances  nuevamente  sacados  That  of  1584  contains  one  hundred 
de  Historias  Antiguas  de  la  Cronica  and  fifty-six  ballads;  — that  of  1551 
de  Espana,  compuestos  por  Lorenzo  contains  one  hundred  and  forty-nine, 
de  Sepulveda,”  etc.,  en  Anvers,  Many  of  them  are  in  the  Romancero.s 
1551,  18rno.  There  were  editions,  Generales,  and  not  a few  in  the  re- 
enlarged and  altered,  in  1563,  1566,  cent  collections  of  Depping  and  Du- 
1580,  and  1584,  mentioned  by  Ebert,  ran. 


28 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


remarkable  letter  he  wrote  on  the  disastrous  position 
of  his  affairs  in  1280,  when,  by  the  rebellion  of  his  son 
and  the  desertion  of  the  higher  ecclesiastics  of  his  king- 
dom, he  was  reduced,  in  his  old  age,  to  misery  and  de- 
spair, — a letter  already  cited,  and  more  poetical  than 

the  ballad  founded  on  it. 

\ 

1 left  my  land,  I left  my  home, 

To  serve  my  God  against  his  foes ; 

Nor  deemed,  that,  in  so  short  a space, 

My  fortunes  could  in  ruin  close. 

For  two  short  months  were  hardly  sped. 

And  April  was  but  gone,  and  May, 

When  Castile’s  towers  and  Castile’s  towns 
From  my  fair  realm  were  rent  away. 

And  they  that  should  have  counselled  peace 
Between  the  father  and  his  son. 

My  bishops  and  my  lordly  priests, 

Forgetting  what  they  should  have  done, — 

Not  by  contrivance  deep  and  dark. 

Not  silent,  like  the  secret  thief, 

But  trumpet-tongued,  rebellion  raised. 

And  filled  my  house  with  guilt  and  grief. 

Then,  since  my  blood  denies  my  cause. 

And  since  my  friends  desert  and  flee, — 

Since  they  are  gone,  who  should  have  stood 
Between  the  guilty  blow  and  me,  — 

To  thee  I bend,  my  Saviour  Lord, 

To  thee,  the  Virgin  Mother,  bow. 

For  your  support  and  gracious  help 
Pouring  my  daily,  nightly  vow  : 

For  your  compassion  now  is  all 

My  child’s  rebellious  power  hath  left 
To  soothe  the  piercing,  piercing  woes 
That  leave  me  here  of  hope  bereft. 

And  since  before  his  cruel  might 
My  friends  have  all  in  terror  fled. 

Do  thou.  Almighty  Father,  thou. 

Protect  my  unprotected  head. 


Chap.  XXXII.] 


TIMONEDA. 


29 


But  I have  heard  in  former  days 
The  story  of  another  king, 

Who  — fled  from  and  betrayed  like  me  — 

Resolved  all  fears  away  to  fling, 

And  launch  upon  the  wide,  wide  sea. 

And  find  adventurous  fortune  there. 

Or  perish  in  its  rolling  waves,  , 

The  victim  of  his  brave  despair^ 

This  ancient  monarch  far  and  near  — 

Old  Apollonius  — was  known  : 

I ’ll  follow  where  he  sought  his  fate. 

And  where  he  found  it  find  my  own.^ 

Juan  de  Timoneda,  partly  bookseller  and  partly  poet, 

— the  friend  of  Lope  de  Rueda,  and,  like  him,  the  au- 
thor of  farces  acted  in  the  public  squares  of  Valencia, 

— was,  both  from  his  occupations  and  tastes,  a person 
who  would  naturally  understand  the  general  poetical 
feeling  and  Avants  of  his  time.  In  consequence  of  this, 
probably,  he  published,  in  1573,  a collection  of  ballads, 
entitled  “ The  Rose,”  consisting,  in  no  small  degree,  of 
his  OAATi  compositions,  but  containing,  also,  some  by 
other  and  older  poets.  Taken  together,  they  constitute 
a Amlume  of  nearly  seven  hundred  pages,  divided  into 
“ The  Rose  of  Love  ” ; “ The  Spanish  Rose  ” ; “ The 
Gentile  Rose,”  so  called,  because  its  subjects  are  hea- 
then ; and  “ The  Royal  Rose,”  which  is  on  the  fate.s 
and  fortunes  of  princes  ; — the  AA’hole  being  followed  by 
about  a hundred  pages  of  popular,  miscellaneous  ATrse, 
rustic  songs,  and  fanciful  glosses. 

The  best  parts  of  this  large  collection  are  the  bal- 
lads gathered  by  its  author  from  popular  tradition, 
most  of  Avhich  were  soon  published  in  other  Roman- 

3 The  “ Cantos  de  Fuentes,”  in  the  eight  hundred  pages.  Puentes  is 
Epistola  to  which  this  ballad  is  found,  noted  by  Zuniga,  in  his  “ Annals  of 
were  printed  three  times,  and  in  the  Seville,”  1677,  p.  585,  as  a knight  of 
edition  of  Alcala,  1587,  12mo,  fill,  Seville  “ of  an  illustrious  lineage.” 
with  their  tedious  commentary,  above  See  also,  anfe,  Vol.  I.  pp.  36-38. 


30 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


ceros,  with  the  variations  their  origin  necessarily  in- 
volved. The  poorest  parts  are  those  Avritten  by  him- 
self,— such  as  the  last  division,  Avhich  is  entirely  his 
own,  and  is  not  superior  to  the  similar  ballads  in  Se- 
pulveda and  Fuentes.  As  a collection,  however,  it  is 
important ; because  it  shows  how  true  the  Spanish  peo- 
ple remained  to  their  old  traditions,  and  how  constantly 
they  claimed  to  have  the  best  portions  of  their  history 
repeated  to  them  in  the  old  forms  to  which  they  had 
so  long  been  accustomed.  In  another  point  of  view, 
also,  it  is  of  consequence.  It  furnishes  ballads  on  the 
early  heroes  of  Spain,  some  of  Avhich  are  needed  to 
till  up  tAvo  or  three  of  the  best  among  their  traditional 
stories,  Avhile  others  come  doAvn,  Avith  similar  accounts 
of  later  heroes,  to  the  end  of  the  Moorish  wars.'^ 

In  1583,  the  series  of  such  popular  Avorks  was  still 
further  continued  by  Pedro  de  Padilla,  Avho  published 
a Pomancero  containing  sixty- three  long  ballads  of  his 
OAvn,  — about  half  of  them  taken  from  uncertain  tra- 
ditions, or  from  fables  like  those  of  Ariosto,  and  the 
others  from  the  knoAvn  history  of  Spain,  Avhich  they  fol- 
loAV  doAvn  through  the  times  of  Charles  the  Fifth  and 
the  Flemish  Avars  of  Philip  the  Second.  The  Italian 
measures  seA^eral  times  intrude,  Avhere  they  can  produce 
only  an  awkward  and  incongruous  effect ; and  the  rest 
of  the  volume,  not  devoted  to  ballads,  — except  fifty 
villancicos,  Avhich  are  full  of  the  old  popular  spirit,  — is 
composed  of  poems  in  the  Italian  manner,  that  add 
nothing  to  its  value.’ 


* The  only  copy  of  this  volume 
known  to  exist  is  among  the  rare  and 
precious  Spanish  books  given  by  Rein- 
hart to  the  Imperial  Library  at  Vien- 
na; but  an  excellent  account  of  it, 
followed  by  above  sixty  of  the  more 
important  ballads  it  contains,  was  pub- 


lished at  Leipzig,  1846,  12mo,  under 
the  title  of  “ Rosa  de  Romances,”  by 
Mr.  AVolf,  the  admirable  scholar, 
to  whom  the  lovers  of  Spanish  litera- 
ture owe  so  much. 

5 “ Romancero  de  Pedro  de  Padi- 
lla,” Madrid,  1583,  12mo.  The  bal- 


Chap,  XXXII.] 


CUEVA.  — HITA. 


SI 


Juan  de  la  Ciieva,  finding  the  old  national  subjects 
thus  seized  upon  by  his  predecessors,  resorted,  it  would 
seem,  from  necessity,  to  the  histories  of  Greece  and 
Rome  for  his  materials,  and  in  1587  published  a vol- 
ume containing  above  a hundred  ballads,  which  he  di- 
vided into  ten  books,  placing  nine  of  them  under  tin' 
protection  of  the  nine  iNIuses,  and  the  other  under  that 
of  Apollo.  Their  poetical  merit  is  inconsiderable.  The 
best  are  a few  whose  subjects  are  drawn  from  the  old 
Castilian  Chronicle,  like  that  on  the  sad  story  of  Doha 
Teresa,  who,  after  being  wedded  against  her  will  to  the 
Moorish  king  of  Toledo,  was  miraculously  permitted  to 
take  refuge  in  a convent,  rather  than  consummate  her 
hated  marriage  Avith  an  infidel.  Two  ballads,  hoAA'ever. 
in  which  the  author  gives  an  account  of  himself  and 
of  his  literary  undertakings,  are  more  curious ; — the 
latter  containing  an  amusing  account  of  some  of  the 
had  poets  of  his  time.'^ 

The  publication  of  the  first  part  of  “The  Civil  AVars 
of  Granada,”  by  Hita,  in  1595,  containing  about  sixty 
ballads,  some  of  them  very  old,  and  several  of  great 
poetical  merit,  increased,  no  doubt,  the  impulse  which 
the  frequent  appearance  of  volumes  of  popular  anonv- 
mous  ballads  continued  to  give  to  Spanish  poetry  in 
this  attractive  form.^  This  is  yet  more  apparent  in  the 
new  direction  taken  by  ballad- writing,  which  from  this 

lads  fill  about  three  hundred  and  six-  ly  seven  hundred  pages.  Only  four  or 
ty  pages.  The  first  twenty-two  are  five  are  on  Spanish  subjects; — that 
on  the  wars  in  Flanders;  afterwards  on  Don  a Teresa  (f.  215)  being  obvi- 
there  are  nine  taken  from  Ariosto’s  ously  taken  from  the  “ CrtSnica  Ge- 
stories ; then  several  on  the  story  of  neral,”  Parte  III.  c.  22.  The  ballad 
Rodrigo  de  Narvaez,  on  Spanish  tra-  addressed  to  his  book,  “ A1  Libro,” 
ditions,  etc.  is  at  the  end  of  the  “Melpomene,’’ 

6 Cueva,  whom  we  have  found  in  and  is  of  value  for  his  personal  his- 
several  other  departments  of  Spanish  tory. 

literature,  printed  his  ballads  with  the  Hita’s  “ Guerras  Civiles  de  Gra- 
title  of  “Coro  Febeo  de  Romances  nada  ” will  be  noticed  when  I come  to 
Historiales,”  in  his  native  city,  Se-  speak  of  romantic  fiction, 
ville,  1587, 12mo,  — a volume  of  near- 


32 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


time  began  to  select  particular  subjects  and  address 
itself  to  separate  classes  of  readers.  Thus,  in  1609,  we 
have  a volume  of  ballads  in  the  dialect  of  the  rogues, 
written  in  the  very  spirit  of  the  vagabonds  it  represents, 
and  collected  by  some  one  who  concealed  himself  under 
the  name  of  Juan  Hidalgo;®  — while  in  1612,  at  the 
other  extreme  of  the  cycle,  Valdivielso,  the  fashionable 
ecclesiastic,  printed  a large  “ Spiritual  Ballad-book,” 
whose  ballads  are  all  on  religious  subjects,  and  all  in- 
tended to  promote  habits  of  devotion.®  In  1614  and 
1622,  Lope  de  Vega,  always  a lover  of  such  poetry, 
gave  to  the  religious  world  a collection  of  similar  de- 
vout ballads,  often  reprinted  afterwards;'®  and  in  1629 
and  1634,  he  contributed  materials  to  two  other  collec- 
tions of  the  same  character,  — the  first  anonymous,  and 
entitled  “ A Bouquet  of  Divine  FloAvers  ” ; and  the 
other  by  Luis  de  Arellano,  which,  under  the  name  of 
Counsels  for  the  Dying,”  contains  thirty  ballads,  sev- 
eral of  which  are  by  the  principal  poets  of  the  time." 


8 “ Romances  de  Germania,”  1C09 ; 
reprinted,  Madrid,  1789,  8vo.  The 
words  Germania,  Germano,  etc.,  were 
applied  to  the  jargon  in  which  the 
rogues  talked  with  one  another.  Hi- 
dalgo, who  wrote  only  six  of  the  ballads 
he  published,  gives  at  the  end  of  his 
collection  a vocabulary  of  this  dialect, 
which  is  recognized  as  genuine  by 
Mayans  y Siscar,  and  reprinted  in  his 
•‘Ori genes”;  so  that  the  suggestion 
of  Clemencin,  which  I have  followed 
in  the  text,  where  I speak  of  Juan  Hi- 
dalgo as  a pseudonyme,  may  not  be 
w’eil  founded ; — a suggestion  further 
discountenanced  by  the  fact,  that,  in 
Tom.  XXXVIII.  of  the  Comedias  Es- 
cogidas,  1672,  the  play  of  “ Los  Mo- 
zarabes  de  Toledo”  is  attributed  to  a 
Juan  Hidalgo.  That  this  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Gypsies,  though  sup- 
posed, in  the  last  edition,  to  have  been 
connected  with  them,  is  shown  in 
Borrow's  “ Zincali,”  London,  1841, 
8vo,  Tom.  11.  p.  143.  Sandoval 


(Carlos  V.,  Lib.  HI.  ^ 38)  more  than 
once  calls  the  rebellious  Comuneros 
of  Valencia  a Germania,  or  combina- 
tion, which  can  leave  little  doubt  about 
tbe  origin  of  the  word  from  Hcrmandad, 
Ilcrmano,  — brotlierhood  and  broth- 
er, — though  Covarrubias  does  not 
seem  sure  about  it,  in  verb.  Akmania. 

9 Valdivielso's  name  occurs  very 
often  in  the  Aprobadon  of  books  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  His  “ Ro- 
mancero  Espiritual,”  Valencia,  1689, 
12mo,  first  printed  1612,  was  several 
times  reprinted,  and  fills  above  three, 
hundred  and  fifty  pages.  It  is  not 
quite  all  in  the  ballad  measure  or  in  a 
grave  tone. 

to  In  Lope's  Obras  Sueltas,  Tom. 
XHI.  and  XVII. 

“ Ramillete  de  Divinas  Flores 
para  el  Desengafio  de  la  Vida  Hu- 
mana,” Amberes,  1629, 18mo,  pp.  262. 
“ Avisos  para  la  Muerte,  por  L.  de 
Arellano,”  Zaragoza,  1634, 1648,  etc., 
18mo,  90 leaves.  See,  an/e,p.  341,  note. 


Chap.  XXXII.] 


BALLAD-BOOKS. 


33 


Others,  like  Eoca  y Serna,  wrote  large  numbers  of 
ballads,  but  did  not  print  them  separately.^^  Those  of 
the  Prince  Esquilache,  some  of  which  are  excellent, 
amount  to  nearly  three  hundred.  Antonio  de  Mendo- 
za wrote  about  two  hundred ; and  perhaps  as  many,  in 
every  possible  variety  of  character,  are  scattered  through 
the  works  of  Quevedo ; so  that,  by  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  large 
and  successful  efforts  had  been  made  by  the  known  au- 
thors of  the  period  to  continue  the  old  ballad  spirit  by 
free  contributions,  both  in  separate  volumes  and  in  mass- 
es of  ballads  inserted  among  their  other  published  Avorks. 

Meantime  the  old  spirit  itself  had  not  been  lost. 
The  ballad-book  known  originally  under  the  name  of 
“ Flor  de  Eomances,”  which  we  have  already  traced  in 
its  individual  parts  to  five  small  volumes,  — published 
between  1593  and  1597,  in  such  widely  different  por- 
tions of  Spain,  that  its  materials  were  gathered  from 
the  soil  of  nearly  the  whole  country,  — continued  to  be 
valued,  and  was  reprinted  and  enlarged,  under  the  name 
of  “ El  Eomancero  General,”  four  times ; till,  with  the 
Ballad-book  of  1550  - 1555,  it  comprehended  nearly  all 
the  old  ballads  that  had  been  preserved  by  tradition,  to- 
gether with  not  a few  by  Lope  de  Vega,  Gongora,  and 
other  living  authors.  Out  of  these  tAvo  A^'ast  store- 
houses, and  from  such  other  sources  as  could  still  yield 
suitable  materials,  smaller  and  more  popular  ballad- 
books  Avere  noAv  selected  and  published.  One  appeared 
at  Barcelona  in  1582,  and  was  reprinted  there  in  1602 
and  1696,  taken  in  a considerable  degree  from  the  col- 
lection of  1550,  but  containing,  besides,  ballads  not 

12  The  ballads  of  Roca  y Serna,  Madrid,  1726,  12mo,  first  printed  in 
often  disfigured  by  his  Gongorism,  1634,  and  frequently  since, 
are  found  in  his  “ Luz  del  Alma,” 

5 


VOL.  III. 


34 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


found  elsewhere,  and  among  the  rest,  several  on  the 
history  of  the  triple  league  and  on  the  death  of  Philip 
the  Second. A ballad-book  for  “ The  Twelve  Peers,” 
and  their  marvellous  achievements,  published  for  the 
first  time  in  1608,  has  continued  to  be  a favorite  ever 
since ; and  four  years  afterwards  appeared  “ The  Bah 
lad-Book  of  the  Cid,”  which  has  been  printed  and  re- 
printed again  and  again,  at  home  and  abroad,  down  to 
our  own  times.*''  These  were  followed,  in  1623,  by  the 
“ Primavera,”  or  Spring  of  Ballads,  by  Perez,  of  which 
a second  part  was  collected  and  published  by  Segura 
in  1629,  comprehending  together  nearly  three  hundred; 
— most,  but  not  all,  of  them  known  before,  and  many 
of  them  of  great  beauty.*®  And  other  ballad-books  of 
the  same  sort,  as  well  as  these,  continued  to  be  printed 
in  cheap  forms  for  popular  use  till  the  old  Castilian 
culture  disappeared  with  the  decay  of  the  old  national 
character. 

But  during  the  long  period  of  a century  and  a half 
when  this  kind  of  poetry  prevailed  so  widely  in  Spain, 
the  ballads  were  not  left  to  the  formal  Bomanceros, 
whether  anonymous,  like  the  largest,  or  by  known  au- 
thors, like  those  of  Sepulveda  and  Cueva,  nor  even  to 
persons  who  wrote  them  in  great  numbers  and  printed 


13  It  is  entitled  “ Silva  de  Varies 
Romances,”  and  contains  the  well- 
known  ballads  of  the  Conde  d’  Irlos, 
the  Marquis  of  Mantua,  Gayferos,  and 
the  Conde  Claros,  with  others,  to  the 
number  of  twenty-three,  that  are  in 
the  Ballad-book  of  1550.  Those  on 
the  death  of  Philip  II.  and  Dona  Isa- 
bel de  la  Paz  are,  of  course,  not  in 
the  first  edition  of  this  Silva.  They 
occur  in  that  of  Barcelona,  1602, 
18mo. 

14  “ Floresta  de  Varios  Romances, 
sacados  de  las  Historias  Antiguas  de 
los  Hechos  Famosos  de  los  Doce  Pares 
de  Francia,”  Madrid,  1728,  18mo, 


first  printed  1608.  See  Sarmiento, 
§ 528,  for  its  popularity ; but  the  later 
ballads  in  tbe  volume  do  not  relate  to 
the  Twelve  Peers. 

15  “ Romancero  y Historia  del  muy 
Valeroso  Cavallero,  el  Cid  Ruy  Diaz 
de  Bivar,  recopilado  por  Juan  de  Es- 
cobar,” Alcala,  16i2,  18mo,  and 
many  other  editions,  the  most  com- 
plete being  that  of  Stuttgard,  1840, 
12mo. 

16  Besides  the  editions  of  1623  and 
1629,.  I know  that  of  Madrid,  1659, 
18mo,  in  two  parts,  containing  addi- 
tions of  satirical  ballads,  letrillas,  etc., 
by  Francisco  de  Segura. 


Chap.  XXXII.]  GREAT  NUMBER  OF  BALLAD-WRITERS.  35 

them  in  a separate  department  of  their  collected  works, 
as  did  Prince  Esqnilache.  On  the  contrary,  between  1550 
and  1700,  hardly  a Spanish  poet  can  be  found  through 
whose  works  they  are  not  scattered  with  such  profu- 
sion, that  the  number  of  popular  ballads  that  could  be 
collected  from  them  would,  if  brought  together,  greatly 
exceed  in  amount  all  that  are  found  in  the  ballad-books 
proper.  Many  of  the  ballads  which  thus  occur  either 
separately  or  in  small  groups  are  picturesque  and  beau- 
tiful in  the  same  way  the  elder  ones  are,  though  rarely 
to  the  same  degree.  Silvestre,  Montemayor,  Espinel, 
Castillejo,  and,  above  all  of  his  time,  Lopez  de  Maldo- 
nado, wrote  them  with  success,  towards  the  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century.^’^  A little  later,  those  of  Gongora 
are  admirable.  Indeed,  his  more  simple,  childlike  bal- 
lads, and  those  in  which  a gay,  mischievous  spirit  is 
made  to  conceal  a genuine  tenderness,  are  unlike  almost 
any  of  their  class  found  elsewhere,  and  can  hardly  be 
surpassed.*®  But  Gongora  afterwards  introduced  the 
same  affected  and  false  style  into  this  form  of  his  poetry 
that  he  did  into  the  rest,  and  was  followed,  with  con- 
stantly increasing  absurdities,  by  Arteaga,  Pantaleon, 
Villamediana,  Coronel,  and  the  rest  of  his  imitators, 
whose  ballads  are  generally  worse  than  any  thing  else 
they  wrote,  because,  from  the  very  simplicity  and  truth 
requii’ed  by  the  proper  nature  of  such  compositions, 
they  less  tolerate  an  appearance  of  affectation. 


Lopez  Maldonado  was  a friend  of 
Cervantes,  and  his  Cancionero  (Ma- 
drid, 1586,  4to)  was  among  the  books 
in  Don  Quixote’s  library.  There  is  a 
beautiful  ballad  by  him,  (f.  35,)  be- 
ginning,— 

Ojo9  llenos  de  beldad, 

Apartad  de  vos  la  ira, 

Y no  pagueis  con  mentira 
A los  que  os  tralan  verdad. 


The  other  authors  referred  to  in  the 
text  have  been  before  noticed. 

'8  Some  of  Gongora’s  romantic  bal- 
lads, like  his  “Angelica  and  Medoro,” 
and  some  of  his  burlesque  ballads,  are 
good  ; but  the  best  are  the  simplest. 
There  is  a beautiful  one,  giving  a dis- 
cussion between  a little  boy  and  girl, 
how  they  will  dress  up  and  spend  a 
holiday. 


36 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


Cervantes,  who  was  Gongora’s  contemporary,  tells  us 
that  he  composed  vast  numbers  which  are  now  lost ; 
and,  from  his  own  opinion  of  them,  we  have  no  reason 
to  regret  their  fate.  Lope’s,  on  the  contrary,  which  he 
preserved  with  a care  for  his  own  reputation  that  was 
not  at  all  characteristic  of  Cervantes,  are  still  numerous 
and  often  excellent;  especially  those  that  relate  to  him- 
self and  his  loves,  some  of  the  best  of  which  seem  to 
have  been  produced  at  Valencia  and  Lisbon.*®  At  the 
same  time  and  later,  good  ballads  were  written  by  Que- 
vedo,  who  descended  even  to  the  style  of  the  rogues 
in  their  composition ; by  Bernarda  de  Fereira,  a nun 
in  the  romantic  convent  of  Buzaco,  in  Portugal ; by 
Rebolledo,  the  diplomatist;  and  perhaps,  though  Avith 
some  hesitation,  we  should  add,  by  Solis,  the  histo- 
rian.^® Indeed,  wherever  we  turn,  in  the  Spanish  po- 
etry of  this  period,  w-e  find  ballads  in  all  their  varieties 
of  tone  and  character,  — often  by  authors  otherwise 
little. known,  like  Alarcon,  Avho,  in  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  wrote  excellent  devout  ballads,^*  or  Die- 
go de  la  Chica,  who  is  remembered  only  for  a single 
satirical  one,  preserved  by  Espinosa  in  the  beginnmg 
of  the  seventeenth ; ^ — but  we  always  find  them  in 
the  works  of  those  poets  of  note  who  desired  to  stand 
well  with  the  mass  of  their  countrymen. 


19  Cervantes  speaks  of  his  “ num- 
berless ballads”  in  his  “ Viage  al 
Parnaso.”  Those  of  Lope  de  Vega 
soon  came  into  the  popular  ballad- 
books,  if,  indeed,  some  of  the  best  of 
them  -were  not,  as  I suspect,  origi- 
nally written  for  the  “ Flor  de  Ro- 
mances” of  Villalta,  printed  at  Va- 
lencia in  1593,  18mo. 

99  Solis,  “ Poesias  Sagradas  y Hu- 
manas,”  1692,  1732,  etc. 

21  “ Vergel  de  Plantas  Divinas,  por 
Arcangel  de  Alarcon,”  1594. 

92  It  is  a ballad  about  money  (Espi- 
nosa, Flores,  1605,  f.  30),  and  is  the 


only  thing  I know  by  Diego  de  la 
Chica.  I might  add  ballads  by  other 
authors,  which  are  found  where  they 
would  least  be  looked  for;  like  one 
by  Rufo,  in  his  “ Apotegmas,”  — one 
by  Jauregui,  in  his  “ Rimas,”  — and 
a beautiful  one  by  Camoens,  (Rimas, 
1598,  f.  187,)  worthy  of  Gdngora, 
and  beginning,  — 

Irme  quiero,  madre, 

A aquella  galera, 

Con  el  marinero 
A ser  marinera. 

I long  to  go,  dear  mother  mine. 

Aboard  yon  galley  fair, 

With  that  young  sailor  that  I love, 

His  sailor  life  to  share. 


Chap.  XXXII.]  GREAT  NUMBER  OF  BALLAD-WRITERS. 


37 


Nor  could  it  be  otherwise; — for  ballads,  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  had  become  the  delight  of  the 
whole  Spanish  people.  The  soldier  solaced  himself 
with  them  in  his  tent,  and  the  muleteer  amidst  the 
sierras;  the  maiden  danced  to  them  on  the  green,  and 
the  lover  sang  them  for  his  serenade ; they  entered  into 
the . low  orgies  of  thieves  and  vagabonds,  into  the 
sumptuous  entertainments  of  the  luxurious  nobility, 
and  into  the  holiday  services  of  the  Chiu'ch ; the  blind 
beggar  chanted  them  to  gather  alms,  and  the  puppet- 
showman  gave  them  in  recitative  to  explain  his  exhi- 
bition ; they  were  a part  of  the  very  foundation  of  the 
theatre,  both  secular  and  religious,  and  the  theatre 
carried  them  everywhere,  and  added  everywhere  to 
their  etfect  and  authority.  No  poetry  of  modern  times 
has  been  so  widely  spread  through  all  classes  of  so- 
ciety, and  none  has  so  entered  into  the  national  char- 
acter. The  ballads,  in  fact,  seem  to  have  been  found 
on  every  spot  of  Spanish  soil.  They  seem  to  have 
filled  the  very  air  that  men  breathed.^^ 


23  There  is  no  need  of  authorities 
to  prove  the  universal  prevalence  of 
ballads  in  the  seventeenth  century  ; 
for  the  literature  of  that  century  often 
reads  like  a mere  monument  of  it. 
But  if  I wished  to  name  any  thing,  it 
would  be  the  Don  Quixote,  where 
Sancho  is  made  to  cite  them  so  often  ; 
and  the  Novelas  of  Cervantes,  es- 
pecially “The  Little  Gypsy,”  who 


sings  her  ballads  in  the  houses  of  the 
nobles  and  the  church  of  Santa  Maria , 
and  “Rinconete  and  Cortadillo,”  where 
they  make  the  coarse  merriment  of  the 
thieves  of  Seville.  Indeed,  as  the  pup- 
pet-showman says,  in  Don  Quixote, 
(Parte  II.  c.  26,)  “ They  were  in  the 
mouths  of  every  body,  — of  the  very 
boys  in  the  streets.” 


D 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


Romantic  Fiction.  — Change  of  Manners  produces  a Change  of  the  Fic- 
tions FOUNDED  UPON  THEM. PaSTORAL  RoMANCE  AND  ITS  OrIGIN  : 

Montemayor  and  his  Diana,  with  its  Continuations  by  Perez  and 
Polo:  Lo  Frasso,  Montalvo,  Cervantes,  Enciso,  Bovadilla,  Bernar- 
do DE  LA  Vega,  Lope  de  Vega,  Balbuena,  Figueroa,  Adorno,  Botelho, 
Quintana,  Corral,  Saavedra.  — Characteristics  of  Pastoral  Fiction. 

The  romances  of  chivalry,  like  the  institutions  on 
which  they  Avere  founded,  lingered  long  in  Spain. 
Their  grave  fictions  were  suited  to  the  air  of  the  stern 
old  castles  with  which  the  Moorish  contest  had  studded 
large  portions  of  the  country,  wRile  their  general  tone 
harmonized  no  less  happily  Avith  the  stately  manners 
which  the  spirit  of  knighthood  had  helped  to  impress 
on  the  higher  classes  of  society,  from  the  mountains  of 
Biscay  to  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  Their  in- 
fluence, therefore,  Avas  great ; and,  as  one  natural  result 
of  its  long  continuance,  other  and  better  forms  of  prose 
fiction  Avere  discountenanced  in  Spain,  or  appeared  later 
than  they  might  have  done  under  different  circum- 
stances ; — a fact  to  which  Cervantes  alludes,  Avhen, 
even  at  the  opening  of  the  seventeenth  century,  he 
complains  that  Spanish  books  of  the  latter  character 
were  still  rarely  to  be  found.  ^ 

Fifty  years,  hoAveAnr,  before  that  period,  signs  of  a 
coming  change  are  perceptible.  The  magnificent  suc- 
cesses of  Charles  the  Fifth  had  already  filled  the  minds 


1 Don  Quixote,  Parte  I.  c.  28. 


Chap.  XXXIII.]  PROSE  PASTORAL  ROMANCES. 


39 


of  men  with  a spirit  of  adventure  very  different  from 
that  of  Amadis  and  his  descendants,  though  sometimes 
hardly  less  wild  and  extravagant.  The  cruel  wars  un- 
ceasingly kept  up  with  the  Barbary  powers,  and  the 
miseries  of  the  thousands  of  captives  who  returned 
from  Africa,  to  amaze  their  countrjnnen  with  tragical 
stories  of  their  own  trials  and  those  of  their  fellow-suf- 
ferers, were  full  of  that  bitter  romance  of  real  life  which 
outruns  all  fiction.  Manners,  too,  — the  old,  formal, 
knightly  manners  of  the  nobility,  — were  beginning  to 
be  modified  by  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  the  world, 
and  especially  with  Italy,  then  the  most  refined  and 
least  military  country  of  Christendom ; so  that  roman- 
tic fiction — the  department  of  elegant  literature,  which, 
above  every  other,  depends  on  the  state  of  society  — was 
naturally  modified  in  Spain  by  the  great  changes  going 
on  in  the  external  relations  and  general  culture  of  the 
kingdom.  Of  this  state  of  things,  and  of  its  workings 
in  the  new  forms  of  fiction  produced  by  it,  we  shall  find 
frequent  proofs  as  we  advance. 

The  first  form,  however,  in  which  a change  in  the 
national  taste  manifested  itself  with  well-defined  success 
— that  oi  prose  pastorals — is  perhaps  not  one  which 
would  have  been  anticipated  even  by  the  more  saga- 
cious ; though,  when  we  now  look  back  upon  its  his- 
tory, we  can  easily  discover  some  of  the  foundations 
on  which  it  was  originally  built. 

From  the  Middle  Ages  the  occupations  of  a shepherd’s 
life  had  prevailed  in  Spain  and  Portugal  to  a greater  ex- 
tent than  elsewhere  in  Europe ; ^ and,  probably  in  con- 

2 The  laws  of  the  “ Partidas,”  of  the  pastoral  life  in  Spain  at  that 
about  12C0,  afford  abundant  illustra-  period,  and  for  a long  time  before, 
tions  of  the  extent  and  importance 


40 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  IL 


sequence  of  this  circumstance,  eclogues  and  bucolics 
were  early  known  in  the  poetry  of  both  countries,  and 
became  connected  in  both  with  the  origin  of  the  popu- 
lar drama.  On  the  other  hand,  the  military  spirit  of 
such  a civilization  as  existed  in  Spain  down  to  the  six- 
teenth century  may  have  gladly  turned  away  from  such 
a monotonous  exaggeration  of  its  own  character  as  is 
found  in  the  romances  of  chivalry,  and  sought  refresh- 
ment and  repose  in  the  peace  and  simplicity  of  a fabu- 
lous Arcadia.  At  least,  these  are  the  two  obvious  cir- 
cumstances in  the  condition  and  culture  of  Spain,  that 
favored  the  appearance  of  so  singular  a form  of  fiction 
as  that  of  prose  pastorals,  though  how  much  infiuence 
either  exercised  it  may  now  be  impossible  to  determine. 

On  one  point,  however,  we  are  not  left  in  doubt. 
We  know  whence  the  impulse  came  that  called  forth 
such  a work  for  the  first  time  in  Castilian  literature, 
and  when  it  appeared  there.  It  was  Sannazaro,  — a 
Neapolitan  gentleman,  Avhose  family  had  been  carried 
from  Sjiain  to  Naples  by  the  political  revolutions  of  the 
preceding  century,  — Avho  is  the  true  father  of  the  mod- 
ern prose  pastoral,  which,  from  him,  passed  directly  to 
Spain,  and,  during  a long  period  of  success  in  that  coun- 
try, never  entirely  lost  the  character  its  author  had 
originally  impressed  upon  it.  His  “Arcadia  ” — written, 
probably,  without  any  reference  to  the  Greek  pastoral  of 
Longus,  but  hardly  Avithout  a knoAvledge  of  the  “ Ame- 
to  ” of  Boccaccio  and  the  Eclogues  of  Bembo  — was  first 
published  entire,  at  Naples,  in  1504.^  It  is  a genuine 
pastoral  romance  in  prose  and  verse,  in  AAdrich,  Avith  a 
slight  connecting  narrative,  and  under  the  disguise  of 
the  loA^es  of  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  Sannazaro 


3 Ginguene,  Hist.  Litt.  d’ltalie,  Tom.  X.,  par  Salvi,  pp.  87,  92. 


Chap.  XXXIII.] 


LA  DIANA  ENAMORADA. 


41 


relates  adventures  that  really  occurred  to  him  and  to 
some  of  his  friends ; — he  himself  appearing  under  the 
name  of  Sincero,  who  is  its  principal  personage.  Such 
a work,  of  course,  is  somewhat  fantastic  from  its  very 
nature ; but  the  fiction  of  Sannazaro  was  written  in  the 
purest  and  most  graceful  Italian,  and  had  a great  suc- 
cess ; — a success  which,  perhaps,  from  the  Spanish 
connections  of  his  family,  wms  early  extended  to  Spain. 
At  any  rate,  Spain  was  the  first  foreign  country  where 
the  Arcadia  was  imitated,  and  was  afterwards  the  only 
one  where  such  works  appeared  in  large  numbers,  and 
established  a lasting  infiuence. 

It  is  singular,  however,  that,  like  the  romances  of 
chivalry,  pastoral  romance  was  first  introduced  into 
Spain  by  a Portuguese,  — by  George  of  Montemayor, 
a native  of  the  town  of  that  name,  near  Coimbra. 
When  he  was  born  w^e  are  not  told ; probably  it  was 
before  1520.  In  his  youth  he  was  a soldier;  but  later, 
from  his  skill  in  music,  he  became  attached  to  the  trav- 
elling chapel  of  the  prince  of  Spain,  afterwards  Philip 
the  Second,  and  thus  enjoyed  an  opportunity  of  visiting 
foreign  countries,  especially  Italy  and  Flanders.  Biit 
his  mind  was  little  cultivated  by  study.  lie  knew  no 
Latin,  which  even  those  of  the  humblest  literary  attain- 
ments were  wont  to  acquire,  in  the  age  when  he  lived ; 
so  that  his  success  is  due  to  his  own  genius  and  to  the 
promptings  of  that  passion  which  gave  its  color  to  his 
life.  Probably  he  left  Spain  from  disappointment  in 
love ; probably,  too,  he  perished  in  a duel  at  Turin,  in 
1561.  But  we  know  nothing  more  of  him  with  any 
tolerable  certainty.'* 

His  “ Diana  Enamorada,”  the  chief  of  his  works, 


4 Barbosa,  Bib.  Lusitana,  Tom.  II.  p.  809,  and  the  Prologo  to  the  Diana 
of  Perez,  ed.  1614,  p.  362. 


D 


* 


VOL.  III. 


6 


42  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

was  first  printed  at  Valencia,  in  1542.®  It  is  written 
in  good  Castilian,  like  his  poetry,  which  is  published 
separately,  though,  like  that,  with  some  intermixture  of 
his  native  Portuguese ; ® and  it  contains,  as  he  tells 
us,  stories  of  adventures  which  really  occurred.’^  We 
know,  too,  that,  under  the  name  of  Sereno,  he  Avas  him- 
self its  hero ; and  Lope  de  Vega  adds,  that  Diana,  its 
heroine,  was  a lady  of  Valencia  de  Don  Juan,  a town 
near  the  city  of  Leon.®  Montemayor’s  purpose,  there- 
fore, like  that  of  Sannazaro,  is  to  give,  in  the  forms  of  a 
pastoral  romance,  an  account  of  some  events  in  his  own 
life  and  in  the  lives  of  a few  of  his  friends.  To  effect 
this,  he  brings  together  on  the  banks  of  the  Ezla,  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains  of  Leon,  a number  of  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses,  who  relate  their  respective  stories 
through  seven  books  of  prose,  intermingled  with  verse. 
But  the  two  principal  personages,  Sereno  and  Diana, 


5 I have  never  seen  any  edition  of 
the  Diana  cited  earlier  than  that  of 
Madrid,  1545  ; but  I possess  one  in 
4to,  112  leaves,  well  printed  at  Valen- 
cia, in  1542,  without  the  name  of  the 
printer.  The  story  of  Narvaez,  of 
which  I shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
when  we  come  to  Antonio  Villegas, 
does  not  stand  in  the  fourth  book  of 
this  copy,  as  it  does  in  the  copies  of 
subsequent  editions.  The  Diana  of 
Montemayor  was  so  popular,  that  at 
least  sixteen  editions  of  the  original 
appeared  in  eighty  years;  six  French 
translations,  according  to  Gordon  de 
Tercel  (Bib.  de  TUsage  des  Romans, 
Paris,  1734, 12mo,Tom.  II.  pp.  23,24); 
two  German,  according  to  Ebert ; and 
one  English.  The  last,  by  Bartholo- 
mew Yong,  (London,  1598,  folio,)  is 
excellent,  and  some  of  its  happy  ver- 
sions of  the  poetry  of  Montemayor  are 
found  in  “ England’s  Helicon,”  1600 
and  1614,  reprinted  in  the  third  vol- 
ume of  the  “ British  Bibliographer,” 
London,  1810, 8vo.  The  story  of  Pro- 
teus and  Julia,  in  “The  Two  Gen- 


tlemen of  Verona,”  was  supposed  by 
Mrs.  Lenox  and  Dr.  Farmer  to  be 
taken  from  that  of  Felismena,  in  the 
second  book  of  Montemayor’s  Diana, 
and  therefore  Collier  has  republished 
Yong’s  translation  of  the  last  in  the 
second  volume  of  his  “ Shakspeare’s 
Library,”  (London,  s.  a.  8vo,)  though 
he  doubts  whether  Shakspeare  were 
really  indebted  to  it.  Malone’s  Shak- 
speare, Boswell’s  ed.,  London,  1821, 
8vo,  Vol.  IV.  p.  3,  and  Brydges,  Res- 
tituta,  London,  1814,  8vo,  Vol.  1.  p. 
498.  Poor  abridgments  of  the  Diana 
of  Montemayor,  and  of  Polo’s  Contin- 
uation, were  published  at  London, 
1738,  12mo. 

® Sometimes  he  v/rote  in  both  lan- 
guages at  once  ; at  least,  he  did  so  in 
his  Cancionero,  1588,  f.  81,  where 
is  a sonnet  which  may  be  read  either 
as  Spanish  or  as  Portuguese. 

^ In  his  Argumcnto  to  the  whole 
romance. 

8 Dorotea,  Act  H.  Sc.  2.  Obras 
Sueltas,  Tom.  VII.  p.  84. 


CHiP.  XXXIII.] 


LA  DIANA  ENAMORADA. 


43 


who  are  introduced  at  first  as  lovers,  are  separated  by 
magic;  and  the  romance  is  brought  to  an  abrupt  con- 
clusion, little  conformable  to  all  the  previous  intima- 
tions, by  the  marriage  of  Diana  to  Delio,  the  unwor- 
thy rival  of  Sereno. 

On  first  reading  the  Diana  of  Montemayor,  it  is  not 
easy  to  understand  it.  The  separate  stories  of  which  it 
is  composed  are  so  involved  with  each  other,  and  so  in- 
artificially  united,  that  we  are  constantly  losing  the 
thread  of  the  principal  narration ; — a difficulty  which 
is  much  increased  by  the  mixture  of  true  and  false  ge- 
ography, heathenism,  magic,  Christianity,  and  all  the 
various  contradictory  impossibilities  that  naturally  fol- 
low an  attempt  to  place  in  the  heart  of  Spain,  and  near 
one  of  its  best-known  cities,  a poetical  Arcadia,  that 
never  existed  anywhere.  The  Diana,  however,  better 
merits  the  name  of  a romance  than  the  Arcadia,  which 
served  for  its  model.  Its  principal  fiction  is  ampler  and 
more  ingeniously  constructed.  Its  episodes  are  more  in- 
teresting. Much  of  it  is  warm  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
disaj)j)ointed  attachment,  which,  no  doubt,  caused  the 
whole  to  be  written.  Some  of  the  poetry  is  beautiful, 
especially  the  lyric  poetry ; and  if  its  prose  style  is  not 
so  pure  as  that  of  Sannazaro,  it  is  still  to  be  remarked 
for  its  grace  and  richness.  Notwithstanding  its  many 
defects,  therefore,  the  Diana  is  not  without  an  interest 
for  us  even  at  this  remote  period,  when  the  Avhole  class 
of  fictions  to  which  it  belongs  is  discountenanced  and 
almost  forgotten;  and  we  feel  that  only  poetical  justice 
was  done  to  it  when  it  was  saved,  by  the  good  taste  of 
the  curate,  in  the  destruction  of  Don  Quixote’s  library. 

The  Diana,  as  has  been  intimated,  was  left  unfinished 
by  its  author;  but  in  1564,  three  years  after  his  death, 
Alonso  Perez,  a physician  of  Salamanca,  to  whom  Mon- 


44 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


temayor,  before  he  finally  left  Spain,  bad  communicated 
his  plan  for  completing  it,  published  a second  part, 
which  opens  in  the  enchanted  palace  of  Felicia,  where 
the  first  ends,  and  gives  us  the  adventures  and  stories 
of  several  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  not  introduced 
before,  as  well  as  a continuation  of  the  original  fiction. 
But  this  second  part,  like  the  first,  fails  to  complete 
the  romance.  It  advances  no  farther  than  to  the  death 
of  Delio,  the  husband  of  Diana,  — which,  according  to 
the  purpose  of  Montemayor,  was  to  have  been  follow- 
ed by  her  union  with  Sereno,  her  first  and  true  lover, 
— and  then  stops  abruptly,  with  the  promise  of  yet  a ’ 
third  part,  which  never  appeared.  Nor  was  it,  probably, 
demanded  with  any  earnestness ; for  the  second,  protract- 
ed through  seven  books,  and  considerably  longer  than 
its  predecessor,  is  much  inferior  to  it  in  merit.  It 
lacks,  in  all  its  many  stories,  the  tenderness  which  the 
disappointment  of  Montemayor  had  given  to  the  first 
portion  of  the  work;  and,  what  perhaps  is  of  no  less 
consequence  in  this  kind  of  composition,  the  prose  is 
heavy  and  monotonous,  and  the  verse  worse.® 

But  this  unfortunate  attempt  was  not  the  only  conse- 
quence of  Montemayor’s  success.  The  same  year  with 
that  in  which  the  work  of  Perez  was  published,  an- 
other continuation  appeared  at  Valencia,  by  Gaspar  Gil 
Polo,  a gentleman  of  that  city,  who  was  a Professor  of 
Greek  in  its  University.*®  The  Diana  of  Polo  has  the 


9 The  first  edition  cited  (Ant.,  Bib. 
Nova,  Tom.  I.  p.  539)  is  of  1564,  and 
I know  of  but  one  other,  that  which  I 
have,  Barcelona,  1614,  12mo  ; though 
I have  seen  one  without  a title-page, 
which  may  be  different  from  both.  At 
any  rate,  its  editions  were  few,  and  its 
popularity  was  small.  It  was,  how- 
ever, translated  into  French,  and  by 
Bart.  Yong  into  English  ; and  was 


printed  in  the  original  more  than  once 
with  the  Diana  of  Montemayor. 

Polo's  “ Diana  Enamorada”  was 
first  printed  in  1564,  and  seven  edi- 
tions of  the  original  appeared  in  half 
a century,  with  two  French  transla- 
tions and  a Latin  one  ; the  last  by 
Caspar  Barth.  It  is  well  translated 
by  Bart.  Yong,  as  the  third  part  of 
the  Diana,  in  the  same  volume  wdth 


Chap.  XXXIII.]  VARIOUS  PROSE  PASTORALS. 


45 


merit  of  being  shorter  than  either  of  its  predecessors. 
It  is  divided  into  five  books,  and  contains  an  account 
of  the  falsehood  and  death  of  Delio,  and  the  marriage 
of  Diana  to  Sereno,  whom  she  finds  when  she  is  seek- 
ing the  husband  who  had  basely  abandoned  her  for 
another  shepherdess.  Several  episodes  and  much  pas- 
toral poetry  of  different  kinds  are  skilfully  inserted; 
but  though  the  original  plan  of  INIontemayor  seems  to 
be  completed,  the  book  ends  with  the  promise  of  a 
still  further  continuation,  which,  though  the  author 
lived  nearly  thirty  years  after  he  made  it,  seems  never 
to  have  been  written."  His  work,  however,  was  suc- 
cessful. Its  prose  has  always  found  favor,  and  so 
have  some  portions  of  its  verse ; especially  the  cancion 
of  Nerea  in  the  third  book,  and  several  of  the  short- 
er poems  in  the  last.^^ 

The  “Ten  Books  of  Fortune  and  Love,”  by  Anto- 
nio de  Lo  Frasso,  a Sardinian  and  a soldier,  published 
in  1573,  is  the  next  Spanish  romance  of  the  same  class 
with  the  Diana;  but  it  is  without  merit,  and  was  for- 
gotten soon  after  it  appeared.'^  Nine  years  later,  in 


the  others ; but  is  really  the  second 
part. 

n There  is,  however,  a third  part 
to  the  Diana  of  Montemayor,  writ- 
ten by  Hier.  Texada,  and  printed  at 
Paris,  16‘27j8vo,  of  which  a copy  in 
the  Royal  febrary  at  Paris  is  cited 
by  Ebert,  but  I have  never  seen  it 

The  best  edition  of  Gil  Polo’s 
Diana  is  that  with  a life  of  him  by 
Cerda,  Madrid,  1802,  12mo  ; particu- 
larly valuable  for  the  notes  to  the 
“ Canto  de  Turia,”  in  which,  imitating 
the  “ Canto  de  Orfeo,”  where  Monte- 
mayor gives  an  account  of  the  famous 
ladies  of  his  time.  Polo  gives  an  ac- 
count of  the  famous  poets  of  Valencia. 
For  lives  of  Polo  see,  also,  Ximeno, 
Escritores  de  Valencia,  Tom.  I.  p. 
270,  and  Foster,  Bib.  Valentina, 
Tom.  I.  p.  150.  It  is  singular  that 


Polo,  who  had  such  success  with  his 
Diana,  should  have  printed  nothing 
else,  except  one  or  two  short  and  tri- 
fling poems. 

1^  It  is  the  same  book  that  Cervan- 
tes ridicules  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the 
first  part  of  Don  Quixote,  and  in  the. 
third  chapter  of  his  “Journey  to  Par- 
nassus ” ; and  is  curious  for  some  spe- 
cimens of  Sardinian  poetry  which  it 
contains.  But  Pedro  de  Pineda,  a 
teacher  of  Spanish  in  London,  taking 
the  irony  of  the  good  curate  in  Don 
Quixote  on  Lo  Frasso 's  romance  to  be 
sincere  praise,  printed  a new  edition 
of  it,  in  two  very  handsome  volumes, 
(London,  1740,  8vo,)  with  a foolish 
Dedication  and  Prologo,  alleging  the 
authority  of  Cervantes  for  its  great 
merit.  Hardly  any  other  of  the  Span- 
ish prose  pastorals  is  so  absurd  as 


46  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

1582,  a better  one  was  publfsbed,  — the  “ Filida,”  — 
'which  passed  early  through  five  editions,  and  is  still 
valued  and  read.'^  Its  author,  Luis  Galvez  de  Montal- 
vo, was  born  in  Guadalaxara,  a town  near  Alcala,  the 
birthplace  of  Cervantes  ; and,  perhaps  from  this  circum- 
stance, they  soon  became  acquainted,  for  they  were  long 
friends,  and  often  praised  each  other  in  their  respec- 
tive works.^®  They  seem,  however,  to  have  had  very 
different  characters ; for,  instead  of  the  life  of  adven- 
ture led  by  Cervantes,  Montalvo  attached  himself  to  the 
great  family  of  Infantado,  descended  from  the  Marquis 
of  Santillana,  and  passed  most  of  his  life  as  a sort  of 
idle  courtier  and  retainer  in  their  ducal  halls,  near  the 
place  of  his  nativity.  Subsequently  he  went  to  Italy, 
where  he  translated  and  published,  in  1587,  “ The 
Tears  of  Saint  Peter,”  by  Tansillo,  and  had  begun  a 
translation  of  the  “Jerusalem  Delivered”  of  Tasso, 
when  he  was  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  his  labors  by  an 
accidental  death,  in  Sicily,  about  the  year  1591.*® 

His  “ Filida,”  in  seven  parts,  was  written  while  he 
was  attached  to  the  Duke  of  Infantado ; for  he  an- 
nounces himself  on  the  title-page  as  “ a gentleman 
and  a courtier,”  and,  in  his  Dedication  to  one  of  the 
family,  says  that  “his  greatest  labor  is  to  live  idle, 
contented,  and  honored  as  one  of  the  servants  of  their 
house.”  The  romance  contains,  as  was  usual^in  such 


this,  or  contains  so  much  had  verse  ; a 
great  deal  of  which  is  addressed  to 
living  and  known  persons  by  their 
titles.  The  tenth  book,  indeed,  is  al- 
most entirely  made  up  of  such  poetry. 
I do  not  recollect  that  Cervantes  is  so 
severe  on  any  poet,  in  his  “ Jour- 
ney to  Parnassus,”  as  he  is  on  Lo 
Frasso. 

The  best  edition  of  the  “ Filida” 
is  the  sixth,  (Madrid,  1792,  8vo,)  with 
a biographical  prologue  by  Mayans  y 


Siscar ; ill-digested,  as  are  all  his  sim- 
ilar prefaces,  but  not  without  valuable 
matter. 

15  Navarrete,  Vida  de  Cervantes, 
pp.  66,  278,  407. 

16  Lope  de  Vega,  Obras  Sueltas, 
Tom.  I.  p.  77,  and  Tom.  XI.  p. 
xxviii.  Don  Quixote,  ed.  Clemencin, 
Tom.  I.  p.  146,  and  Tom.  III.  p.  14, 
in  the  notes.  The  “ Tears  ” of  Tan- 
sillo enjoyed  the  honor  of  being  four 
times  translated  into  Spanish. 


Chap.  XXXIII.]  VARIOUS  PROSE  PASTORALS. 


47 


works,  the  adventures  of  living  and  known  personages, 
among  whom  were  Montalvo  himself,  Cervantes,  and 
the  nobleman  to  whom  it  is  dedicated.  But  the  tone 
of  pastoral  life  is  not  better  preserved  than  it  is  in  the 
other  fictions  of  the  same  class.  Indeed,  in  the  sixth 
part,  there  is  a most  inappropriate  ciitical  discussion 
on  the  merits  of  the  two  schools  of  Spanish  poetry 
then  contendmg  for  fashionable  mastery ; and  in  the 
seventh  is  a courtly  festival,  with  running  at  the  ring, 
in  which  the  shepherds  appear  on  horseback  with 
lances  and  armorial  bearings,  like  knights.  The  prose 
style  of  the  whole  is  pure  and  good;  and  among  the 
poems  with  which  it  abounds,  a few  in  the  old  Spanish 
measure  may  be  selected  that  are  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
equal  to  the  similar  poems  of  Montemayor. 

Cervantes,  too,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  was  led 
by  the  spirit  of  the  times,  rather,  perhaps,  than  by  his 
own  taste,  to  begin — as  an  offering  to  the  lady  of  his 
love  — the  “ Galatea,”  of  which  the  first  six  books,  pub- 
lished in  1584,  were  all  that  ever  appeared. This 
was  followed,  in  1586,  by  “ Truth  for  the  Jealous  ” ; 
again  a romance  in  six  hooks,  and,  like  the  last,  un- 
finished. It  was  written  by  Bartolome  Lopez  de  En- 
ciso,  of  whom  we  know  from  himself  that  he  was  a 
young  man  when  he  wrote  it,  and  that  it  was  his  pur- 
pose to  publish  a second  part,  of  which,  however,  noth- 
ing more  was  heard.  Nor  can  we  regret  that  he  failed 
to  fulfil  his  promise.  His  fictions,  which  are  occupied 
chiefly  with  the  nymphs  and  shepherds  of  the  Tagus, 
are  among  the  most  confused  and  unmeaning  that  have 
ever  been  attempted.  His  scene  is  laid,  from  its  open- 
ing, in  the  days  of  the  most  ancient  Greek  mythology  ; 
but  the  Genius  of  Spain,  in  the  fifth  book,  carries  the 


Ante,  Vol.  II.  pp.  61  -64. 


48 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


same  shepherds  who  thus  figure  in  the  first  to  a mag- 
nificent temple,  and  shows  them  the  statues  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  .of  Philip  the  Second,  and  even  of  Philip  the 
Third,  who  was  not  yet  on  the  throne ; — thus  confound- 
ing the  earliest  times  of  classical  antiquity  with  an  age 
which,  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  yet  to 
come.  Other  inconsequences  follow,  in  great  numbers, 
as  matters  of  course,  while  nothing  in  either  the  prose 
or  the  poetry  is  of  value  enough  to  compensate  for  the 
absurdities  in  the  story.  Indeed,  few  portions  of  Span- 
ish literature  show  any  thing  more  stiff  and  wearisome 
than  the  long  declamations  and  discussions  in  this  dull 
fiction.^® 

Another  pastoral  romance  in  six  books,  entitled  “ The 
Nymphs  of  the  Henares,”  by  Bernardo  Gonzalez  de 
Bovadilla,  was  printed  in  1587.  The  author,  who  was 
a native  of  the  Canary  Islands,  confesses  that  he  has 
placed  the  scene  of  his  story  on  the  banks  of  the  He- 
nares without  having  ever  seen  them ; but  both  he  and 
his  romance  have  long  since  been  forgotten.  So  has 
“ The  Shepherds  of  Iberia,”  in  four  books,  by  Bernardo 
de  la  Vega,  supposed  to  have  been  a native  of  Madrid, 
and  certainly  a canon  of  Tucuman,  in  Peru,  whose  ill- 
written  story  appeared  in  1591.  But  that  these,  and 
all  that  preceded  them,  enjoyed  for  a time  the  public 
favor  is  made  plain  by  the  fact,  that  they  are  all  found 
in  the  library  of  Don  Quixote,  and  that  three  of  them 
receive  high  praise  from  Cervantes ; — much  higher 
than  has  been  confirmed  by  the  decision  of  subsequent 
generations.’® 

18  “ Desengafio  de  Celos,  compuesto  book,  of  which  I possess  the  copy  that 
porBartholome  Lopez  deEnciso,Natu-  belonged  to  Cerda  y Rico,  and  which 
ral  de  Tendilla,”  Madrid,  1586,  12mo,  Pellicer  borrowed  of  him  to  make 
321  leaves.  There  is,  I believe,  ab-  the  needful  note  on  Enciso  for  his 
solutely  nothing  known  of  the  author,  edition  of  Don  Quixote,  Parte  I. 
except  what  he  tells  us  of  himself  in  c.  6. 

this  romance;  — an  extremely  rare  19  Don  Quixote,  ed.  Pellicer,  Parte 


Chap.  XXXIII.] 


EL  SIGLO  DEL  ORO. 


49 


Some  time,  however,  elapsed  before  another  came  to 
continue  the  series,  except  the  “ Arcadia”  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  which,  though  written  long  before,  Avas  not  print- 
ed till  1598.^’’  At  last,  “ The  Age  of  Gold,”  by  Ber- 
nardo de  Balbnena,  appeared.  Its  author,  born  on  the 
vine-clad  declivities  of  the  Val  de  Penas,  in  1568,  early 
accompanied  his  family  to  Mexico,  Avhere  he  was  edu- 
cated, and  where,  Avhen  only  seA^enteen  years  old,  he 
AA'as  already  knoAvn  as  a poet.  Once,  at  least,  he  Aisited 
his  native  country,  and  perhaps  oftener ; but  he  seems 
to  haAe  spent  most  of  his  life,  either  in  Jamaica,  Avhere 
he  enjoyed  an  ecclesiastical  benefice,  or  in  Puerto  Rico, 
of  Avhich  he  Avas  afterAvards  bishop,  and  AALere  he  died 
in  1627. 

Of  the  manners  of  the  New  World,  hoAvever,  or  of 
its  magnificent  scenery,  his  “ Age  of  Gold  in  the  Woods 
of  Eriphile”  shoAvs  no  trace.  It  Avas  printed  at  Ma- 
drid, in  1608,  and  might  have  been  Avritten,  if  its  au- 
thor had  never  been  in  any  other  city.  But  it  is  not 
Avithout  merit.  The  poetry  Avith  Avhich  it  abounds  is 
generally  of  the  Italian  school,  but  is  much  better  than 
can  be  found  in  most  of  these  doubtful  romances ; and 
its  prose,  though  sometimes  affected,  is  oftener  SAveet 
and  fioAving.  Probably  nothing  in  the  nine  eclogues  — 
as  its  diA’isions  are  unsuitably  called  — is  connected  Avith 
either  the  history  or  the  scandal  of  the  times  ; and  if  this 
be  the  case,  Ave  haA^e,  perhaps,  an  explanation  of  the 
fact  that  it  Avas  less  regarded  by  those  contemporary 
Avith  its  publication  than  were  similar  Avorks  of  inferior 
merit.  But  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  it  Avas 
long  overlooked;  no  second  edition  of  it  being  de- 

I.  Tom.  I.  p.  67,  and  ed.  Clemencin,  Covarrubias  Herrera,  printed  in  1594, 
Tom.  1.  p.  144.  8vo,  should  also  be  excepted  ; but  I 

Ante,^ o\.  II.  p.  125.  Perhaps  the  know  this  work  only  from  the  title  of 
“ Enamorada  Elisea  ” of  Geronimo  de  it  in  Antonio. 

VOL.  III.  7 E 


50  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

manded  till  1821,  when  it  received  the  rare  honor  of 
being  published  anew  by  the  Spanish  Academy.^^ 

The  very  next  year  after  the  first  appearance  of  “ The 
Age  of  Gold,”  Christoval  Suarez  de  Figueroa,  a native 
of  Valladolid,  a jurist  and  a soldier,  published  his 
“ Constant  Amaryllis,  in  Four  Discourses,”  crowded, 
like  all  its  predecessors,  with  short  poems,  and,  like 
most  of  them,  claiming  to  tell  a tale  not  a little  of 
which  was  true.^^  Its  author,  who  lived  a great  deal 
in  Italy,  was  already  known  by  an  excellent  translation 
of  Guarini’s  “Pastor  Fido,”^^  and  published,  at  differ- 
ent times  afterwards,  several  original  works  which  en- 
joyed much  reputation.^ 

But  he  seems  to  have  been  a man  of  an  unkind  and 
unfaithful  character.  In  a curious  account  of  his  own 
life  which  appeared  in  his  “ Traveller,”  he  speaks  harsh- 


21  The  prefatory  notice  to  this  edi- 
tion contains  all  that  is  known  of  Bal- 
huena. 

22  There  was  an  edition  with  a 
French  translation  in  1614,  hut  the 
best  is  that  of  Madrid,  1781,  8vo. 

23  It  was  first  printed,  I believe,  at 
Naples,  in  1602,  but  was  improved  in 
the  edition  at  Valencia,  1609,  12mo, 
pp.  278,  from  which  I transcribe  the 
opening  of  Act  III.  ; — 

O primavera,  juventud  del  aiio, 

Nueva  madre  de  flores, 

De  nuevas  yervezillas  y d’  amores, 

Tu  buelves,  mas  contigo 
No  buelven  los  serenoa 
Y aventurosos  dias  de  mis  gustos; 

Tu  buelves,  si,  tu  buelves, 

Mas  contigo  no  torna 

Sino  la  remembran^a 

Miserable  y doliente 

De  mi  caro  tesoro  ya  pcrdido.  gj 

This  passage  is  so  nearly  word  for 
word,  that  it  is  not  worth  while  to 
copy  the  Italian,  and  yet  its  fluency 
and  ease  are  admirable. 

There  is  a translation  of  the  “ Pas- 
tor Fido,”  by  a Jewess,  Dona  Isabel 
de  Correa,  of  which  I know  only  the 
third  edition,  that  of  Antwerp,  1694, 
12mo.  It  is  one  of  the  few  trophies 


in  poetry  claimed  by  the  fair  sex  of 
its  author’s  faith  ; but  it  is  not  worthy 
of  much  praise.  Ginguene  complains 
of  the  original,  which  extends  to  sev- 
en thousand  lines,  for  being  too  long. 
It  is  so  ; but  this  translation  of  Dona 
Isabel  is  much  longer,  containing,  I 
think,  above  eleven  thousand  lines. 
Its  worst  fault,  however,  is  its  bad 
taste.  There  is  a drama  with  the 
same  title,  “ El  Pastor  Fido,”  in  the 
Comedias  Escogidas,  Tom.  VIII.,  1657. 
f.  106  ; — but,  though  it  is  said  to  be 
written  by  three  poets  no  less  famous 
than  Solis,  Coello,  and  Calderon,  it 
has  very  little  value. 

2t  Antonio  (Bib.  Nova,  Tom.  I.  p. 
251)  gives  a list  of  nine  of  the  works 
of  Figueroa,  some  of  which  must  be 
noticed  under  their  respective  heads  : 
but  it  is, probably  not  complete,  for 
Figueroa  himself,  in  1617,  (Pasagero. 
f.  377,)  says  he  had  already  published 
seven  books,  and  Antonio  gives  only 
six  before  that  date ; besides  which,  a 
friend,  in  the  Preface  to  Figueroa’s 
Life  of  the  Marquis  of  Cafiete,  1613. 
says  he  had  written  eight  works  in  the 
ten  years  then  preceding. 


Chap.  XXXIII.] 


LA  CONSTANTE  AMARILIS. 


51 


ly  and  insidiously  of  many  of  liis  contemporaries ; and 
towards  Cervantes  — who  had  just  died,  after  praising 
every  body  most  generously  during  his  whole  life  — he 
is  absolutely  malignant.^^  Ilis  last  Avork  is  dated  in 
1621,  and  this  is  the  last  fact  we  knoAV  in  relation  to 
him.  His  “Amaryllis,”  wliich,  as  he  intimates,  Avas 
composed  to  please  a person  of  great  consideration,  did 
not  satisfy  its  author.^®  It  is,  hoAA^ever,  Avritten  in  an 
easy  and  tolerably  pure  style ; and  though  it  contains 
formal  and  wearisome  discussions,  like  that  in  the  first 
part  on  Poetry,  and  aAvkAvard  machinery,  such  as  a 
A'ision  of  Venus  and  her  court  in  the  second,  it  is  the 
only  one  of  his  Avorks  that  has  been  reprinted  or  much 
read  Avithin  the  last  century. 

A feAV  pastoral  romances  appeared  in  Spain  after  the 
Amaryllis,  but  none  of  so  much  merit,  and  none  that 
enjoyed  any  considerable  degree  of  favor.  Espinel 
Adorno  ; Botelho,  a Portuguese ; ^ Quintana,  Avho 
assumed  the  name  of  CueA'as ; Corral ; and  Saave- 


S-")  Navarrete,  A^'ida  de  Cervantes, 
pp.  179- 181,  and  elsewhere.  The 
very  curious  notices  given  by  Figue- 
roa of  his  own  life,  which  have  nev- 
er been  used  for  his  biography,  are  in 
his  “ Pasagero,”  from  f.  286  to  f.  392, 
and  are,  like  many  other  passages  of 
that  singular  book,  full  of  bitterness 
towards  his  contemporaries,  Lope  de 
A^ega,  A^illegas,  Espinosa,  etc. 

^ Pasagero,  f.  9k  b. 

S'?  “El  Premio  de  la  Constancia  y 
Pastores  de  Sierra  Bermeja,  por  Ja- 
cinto de  Espinel  Adorno,”  Madrid, 
1620,  12mo,  162  leaves.  I find  no 
notice  of  it,  except  the  slight  one  in 
Antonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  613; 
but  it  is  not  worse  than  some  that 
were  more  valued. 

28  “ El  Pastor  de  Clenarda  de  Mi- 
guel Botelho  de  Cavalho,”  Madrid, 
1622, 8vo.  He  wrote,  also,  several  oth- 
er works  ; all  in  Castilian,  except  his 
“ Filis,”  a poem  in  octave  stanzas. 
Barbosa,  Bib.  Lus.,  Tom.  III.  p.  466. 


29  “ E.xperiencias  de  Amor  y For- 
tuna,  por  el  Licenciado  Francisco  de 
las  Cuevas  de  Madrid,”  Barcelona. 
1649, 12mo.  See,  also,  Baena,  Hijos 
de  Madrid,  Tom.  II.  pp.  172  and  189. 
Francisco  de  Quintana  dedicated  this 
pastoral  to  Lope  de  A^ega,  who  wrote 
him  a complimentary  reply,  in  which 
he  treats  Quintana  as  a young  man, 
and  this  as  his  first  work.  There  were 
editions  of  it  in  1626,  1646,  1654,  as 
well  as  the  one  at  Barcelona,  above 
noted,  and  one  at  Madrid,  1666,  12mo; 
and  in  the  nineteenth  volume  of  Lope's 
Obras  Sueltas,  pp.  353-400,  is  a ser- 
mon which  Quintana  delivered  at  the 
obsequies  of  Lope,  in  the  title  of 
which  he  is  called  Lope's  “ intimate 
friend.” 

80  “ La  Cintia  de  Aranjuez,  Pro- 
sas  y A^ersos,  por  Don  Gabriel  de  Cor- 
ral, Natural  de  A^alladolid,”  Madrid. 
1629,  12mo,  208  leaves.  I know  of 
no  other  edition.  He  lived  in  Rome 
from  1630  to  1632,  and  probably  long- 


52 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


dra,^‘  close  up  the  series ; — the  last  bringing  us  down 
to  just  about  a century  from  the  first  appearance  of 
such  fictions  in  the  time  of  Montemayor,  and  all  of 
them  infected  with  the  false  taste  of  the  period.  Tak- 
en together,  they  leave  no  doubt  that  pastoral  romance 
was  the  first  substitute  in  Spain  for  the  romances  of 
chivalry,  and  that  it  inherited  no  small  degree  of  their 
popularity.  Most  of  the  works  we  have  noticed  were 
several  times  reprinted,  and  the  “ Diana”  of  Montemayor, 
the  first  and  best  of  them  all,  was  probably  more  read 
in  Spain  during  the  sixteenth  century  than  any  Span- 
ish work  of  amusement  except  the  “Celestina.” 

All  this  seems  remarkable  and  strange,  when  we  con- 
sider only  the  absurdities  and  inconsequences  with  which 
such  fictions  necessarily  abound.  But  there  is  another 
side  to  the  question,  which  should  not  be  overlooked. 
Pastoral  romance,  after  all,  has  its  foundation  in  one 
of  the  truest  and  deepest  principles  of  our  common 
nature,  — that  love  of  rural  beauty,  of  rural  peace,  in 
short,  of  whatever  goes  to  constitute  a country  life,  as 
distinguished  from  the  constrained  life  of  a city,  which 
few  are  too  dull  to  feel,  and  fewer  still  so  artificial  as 
wholly  to  reject.  It  has,  therefore,  prevailed  more  or 
less  in  all  modern  countries,  as  we  may  see  in  Italy, 
from  the  success  that  followed  Sannazaro ; in  Prance, 
from  the  “ Astrea  ” of  Durfe  ; and  in  England,  from 
the  “ Arcadia  ” of  Sir  Philip  Sidney ; — the  two  latter- 
being  pastoral  romances  of  enormous  length,  compared 

er.  (Antonio,  Bib.  Nova,  Tom.  I.  p.  affected.  In  my  copy,  which  in  the 
505.)  He  is  Gongoresque  in  his  style,  colophon  is  dated  1634,  there  are,  as  a 
as  is  Quintana.  separate  tract,  four  leaves  of  religious 

31  “ Los  Pastores  del  Betis,  por  and  moral  advice  to  the  author’s  son, 
Gonzalvo  de  Saavedra,”  Trani,  1633,  when  he  was  going  as  governor  to  one 
4to,  pp.  289.  It  seems  to  have  been  of  the  provinces  of  Naples;  better 
written  in  Italy  ; but  we  know  nothing  written  than  the  romance  that  pre- 
of  its  author,  except  that  he  was  a cedes  it. 

Veintiquatro  of  Cordova.  His  style  is 


Chap.  XXXIII.]  INCONGRUITIES  OF  PASTORAL  FICTION.  53 

with  any  in  Spanish ; and  the  very  last  enjoying  for 
above  a century  a popularity  which  may  well  be  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  “Diana”  of  Montemayor,  if, 
indeed,  it  did  not  equal  it.®^ 

No  doubt,  in  Spain,  as  elsewhere,  the  incongruities 
of  such  fictions  were  soon  perceived.  Even  some  of 
those  who  most  indulged  in  them  showed  that  it  was 
not  entirely  from  a misapprehension  of  their  nature. 
Cervantes,  Avho  died  regretting  that  he  should  leave  his 
“ Galatea  ” unfinished,  still  makes  himself  merry  more 
than  once  in  his  “ Don  Quixote  ” with  all  such  fancies ; 
and,  in  his  “Colloquy  of  the  Dogs,”  permits  one  of  them, 
who  had  been  in  shepherd  service,  to  satirize  the  false 
exhibition  of  life  in  the  best  pastorals  of  his  time,  not 
forgetting  his  OAvn  among  the  rest.^®  Lope  de  V ega,  too, 
though  he  published  his  “ Arcadia  ” under  circumstan- 
ces which  show  that  he  set  a permanent  value  upon 
its  gentle  tales,  could  still,  in  a play  where  shepherds 
are  introduced,  make  one  of  them  — who  found  a real 
life  among  fiocks  and  herds  in  rough  weather  much  less 
agreeable  than  the  life  he  had  read  of  in  the  pastorals 
— say,  when  sufiering  in  a storm,  — 

And  I should  like  just  now  to  see  those  men 

Who  write  such  books  about  a shepherd’s  life, 

Where  all  is  spring  and  flowers  and  trees  and  brooks. 34 


32  Portugal  might  have  been  added. 
The  “ Menina  e Moca  ” of  Bernardino 
Ribeyro,  printed  1557,  is  a beautiful 
fragment;  and  the  “Primaveira”  of 
Francisco  Rodriguez  de  Lobo,  in  three 
long  parts,  printed  between  1601  and 
1614, — the  first  of  which  was  trans- 
lated into  Spanish  by  Juan  Bart.  Mo- 
rales, 1629,  — is  among  the  best  full- 
length  pastoral  romances  extant.  Both 
for  a long  time  were  favorites  in  Por- 
tugal, and  are  still  read  there.  Bar- 
bosa, Bib.  Lus.,  Tom.  I.  p.  518,  Tom. 
11.  p.  242 


33  Don  Quixote,  Parte  I.  c.  6,  in 
the  examination  of  the  library,  where 
his  niece  begs  that  the,  pastorals  may 
be  burnt  as  well  as  the  books  of  chiv- 
alry, lest,  if  her  uncle  were  cured  of 
knight-errantry,  he  should  go  mad  as 
a shepherd ; — and  Parte  II.  c.  67  and 
73,  where  her  fears  are  very  nigh 
being  realized. 

34  Comedias,  Parte  VI.,  Madrid, 
1615,  4to,  f.  102.  El  Cuerdo  en  su 
Casa,  Act.  I. 


54 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


Still,  neither  Cervantes,  nor  Lope,  nor  any  body  else 
in  their  time,  thought  seriously  of  discountenancing  pas- 
toral fictions.  On  the  contrary,  there  was  in  their  very 
style  — which  was  generally  an  imitation  of  the  Italian, 
that  gave  birth  to  them  all  — something  attractive  to 
a cultivated  Castilian  ear,  at  a time  when  the  school 
of  Garcilasso  was  at  the  height  of  its  popularity  and 
favor.  Besides  this,  the  real  events  they  recorded,  and 
the  love-stories  of  persons  in  high  life  that  they  were 
known  to  conceal,  made  them  sometimes  riddles  and 
sometimes  masquerades,  which  engaged  the  curiosity  of 
those  who  moved  in  the  circles  either  of  their  authors 
or  of  their  heroes  and  heroines.^^  But  more  than  all, 
the  glimpses  they  afforded  of  nature  and  truth  — such 
genuine  and  deep  tenderness  as  is  shown  by  Monte- 
mayor,  and  such  graceful  descriptions  of  natural  scen- 
ery as  abound  in  Balbuena  — were,  no  doubt,  re- 
freshing in  a state  of  society  stiff  and  formal  as  was 
that  at  the  Spanish  court  in  the  times  of  Philip  the 
Second  and  Philip  the  Third,  and  in  the  midst  of  a 
culture  more  founded  on  military  virtues  and  the  spirit 
of  knighthood  than  any  other  of  modern  times.  As 
long,  therefore,  as  this  state  of  things  continued,  pas- 
toral fictions  and  fancies,  filled  with  the  dreams  of  a 
poetical  Arcadia,  enjoyed  a degree  of  favor  in  Spain 
which  they  never  enjoyed  anywhere  else.  But  when 
this  disappeared,  they  disappeared  with  it. 

35  “ The  Diana  of  Montemayor,”  lis  of  Figueroa,  were  real  person- 
says  Lope  de  Vega,  in  the  passage  ages.”  Others  might  be  added,  on 
from  his  “Dorotea”  already  cited,  the  authority  of  their  authors,  such 
(n.  8,)  “ was  a lady  of  Valencia  de  as  “ Los  Diez  Libros  de  Fortuna  y 
Don  Juan,  near  Leon,  and  he  has  Amor,”  “ La  Cintia  de  Aranjuez,” 
made  both  her  and  the  river  Ezla  im-  etc.  See  a note  of  Clemencin,  Don 
mortal.  So  the  Philida  of  Montalvo,  Quixote,  Tom.  VI.  p.  440. 
the  Galatea  of  Cervantes,  and  the  Fi- 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


Romances  in  the  Style  of  Rogues.  — State  of  Manners  that  pro- 
duced THEM.  — Mendoza’s  Lazarillo  de  Tormes.  — Aleman’s  Guzman 

DE  AlFARACHE,  WITH  THE  SpURIOUS  CONTINUATION  OF  IT  BY  SaYAVEDRA 

AND  THE  True  one  by  Aleman.  — Perez. — Espinel  and  his  Marcos 
DE  Obregon.  — Yanez.  — Quevedo.  — SoLORZANO.  — Enriquez  Gomez. 
— Estevanillo  Gonzalez. 


The  next  form  of  prose  fiction  produced  in  Spain, 
and  the  one  which,  from  its  greater  truth,  has  enjoyed 
a more  permanent  regard  than  the  last,  is  found  in 
those  stories  that  have  commonly  gone  under  the  name 
of  “ tales  in  the  gusto  picarescoj"  or  tales  in  the  style 
of  rogues.  Taken  as  a class,  they  constitute  a singu- 
lar exhibition  of  character,  and  are,  in  fact,  as  separ- 
ate and  national  in  their  air  as  any  thing  in  the  whole 
body  of  modern  literature. 

Their  origin  is  obvious,  and  the  more  so  from 
what  is  most  singular  in  their  character.  They  sprang 
directly  from  the  condition  of  some  portions  of  society 
in  Spain  when  they  appeared ; — a condition,  it  should 
be  added,  which  has  existed  there  ever  since,  and  con- 
tributed to  preserve  for  the  stories  that  bear  its  im- 
press no  little  of  the  favor  they  have  always  enjoyed. 
Before  speaking  of  them  in  detail,  we  must,  therefore, 
notice  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  country,  and 
the  peculiar  state  of  manners  that  gave  them  birth. 

The  wars  of  the  opposing  races  and  religions,  that  had 
constituted  so  much  of  the  business  of  life,  and  so  long 
engrossed  the  thoughts  of  men,  in  Spain,  had,  indeed. 


56  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

nearly  ceased  from  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
But  the  state  of  character  they  had  produced  in  the 
Spanish  people  had  by  no  means  ceased  with  them.  On 
the  contrary,  it  had  been  kept  in  the  freshest  activity 
by  those  vast  enterprises  Avhich  Charles  the  Fifth  had 
pushed  forward  in  Italy,  France,  and  Germany,  with 
such  success,  that  the  Spanish  nation,  always  marked 
by  a sanguine  enthusiasm,  had  become  fully  persuaded 
that  it  was  destined  to  achieve  an  empire  which,  cover- 
ing the  whole  of  the  New  World  and  whatever  was 
most  desirable  in  the  Old,  should  surpass  in  glory  and 
power  the  empire  of  the  Caesars  in  the  days  of  its  palmi- 
est supremacy. 

This  magnificent  result  was  a matter  of  such  general 
faith,  that  men  often  felt  a desire  to  contribute  their 
personal  exertions  to  accomplish  it.  Not  only  the  high 
nobility  of  Spain,  therefore,  but  all  cavaliers  and  men 
of  honor  who  sought  distinction,  saw,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  places  in  the  civil  admmistration  of  affairs  or  in 
the  Church,  no  road  open  before  them  on  which  they 
were  so  much  tempted  to  enter  as  that  of  military  en- 
terprise. Laborious  occupation  in  the  business  of  com- 
mon life  and  practical  and  productive  industry  were, 
in  consequence,  discountenanced,  or  held  in  contempt, 
while  the  armies  were  thronged,  and  multitudes  of  gen- 
tlemen and  men  of  culture,  like  Cervantes  and  Lope  de 
Vega,  gladly  served  in  them  as  simple  soldiers. 

But  large  as  were  the  armies  of  Charles  the  Fifth 
and  Philip  the  Second,  all  Avho  desired  it  could  not  be 
soldiers.  Many  persons  of  decent  condition,  therefore, 
remained  idle,  because  they  found  no  occupation  which 
was  not  deemed  below  their  rank  in  society ; while  oth- 
ers, having  made  an  experiment  of  military  life  suffi- 
cient to  disgust  them  with  its  hardships,  returned  home 


Chap.  XXXIV.]  EL  GUSTO  PICARESCO  AND  ITS  ORIGIN.  57 

unfitted  for  every  thing  else.  These  two  sorts  of  persons 
formed  a class  of  idlers  that  hung  loose  upon  society  in 
the  principal  cities  of  Spain,  thriving  at  best  by  flat- 
tery and  low  intrigue,  and  sometimes  driven  for  subsist- 
ence to  crime.  Their  number  was  by  no  means  small. 
They  were  known  and  marked  wherever  they  went ; and 
their  characters,  represented  with  much  spirit,  and  often 
with  great  faithfulness,  are  still  to  be  recognized  in  the 
proud,  starving  cavaliers  of  Mendoza  and  Quevedo,  who 
stalk  about  the  streets  upon  adventure,  or  crowd  the 
antechamber  of  the  minister,  and  Aveary  his  patience 
with  their  abject  supplications  for  the  meanest  places  it 
is  in  his  power  to  bestow. 

But  there  Avas  yet  another  body  of  persons  in  Spain, 
nearly  akin  to  the  last  in  spirit,  though  differing  from 
them  in  their  original  position,  Avho  figure  no  less  in 
this  peculiar  form  of  fiction.  They  Avere  the  active,  the 
shrewd,  and  the  unscrupulous  of  the  lower  portions  of 
society ; — men  Avho  Avere  able  to  perceive  that  the  re- 
sources and  poAver  of  the  country,  Avith  all  the  advan- 
tages they  desired  to  reach,  were  already  in  possession 
of  an  aristocratic  caste,  Avho  looked  to  them  for  nothing 
but  a sincere  and  faithful  loyalty.  During  a long  period, 
— the  period  of  danger  and  trouble  at  home,  — the 
fidelity  of  this  class  had  been  complete  and  unhesitating ; 
bringing  Avith  it  little  feeling  of  Avrong,  and  perhaps  no 
sense  of  degradation  ; for  such  men,  in  such  times,  claim- 
ed from  their  superiors  only  protection,  and,  receiving 
this,  asked  for  nothing  else. 

At  last,  hoAvever,  other  prospects  opened  upon  them. 
Peace  came  gradually,  as  the  Moors  Avere  driven  out; 
and  Avith  it  came  a sense  of  independence  and  personal 
rights,  Avhich  sometimes  expressed  itself  in  social  rest- 
lessness, as  in  the  frequent  troubles  at  the  uniA^ersities ; 

8 


VOL.  III. 


58 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


and  sometimes,  as  in  the  wars  of  the  Comuneros,  in 
open  rebellion.  Contemporary,  too,  with  these  upward 
struggles  of  the  masses  of  the  people,  which  were  al- 
ways successfully  rebuked  and  repressed,  came  the  con- 
quests in  America,  pouring  such  floods  of  wealth  as 
the  world  had  never  before  seen  upon  a country  that 
had  for  ages  been  one  of  the  poorest  and  most  suffer- 
ing in  Europe.  The  easily  got  treasure  — which  was 
at  first  only  in  the  hands  of  military  adventurers  or  of 
those  who  had  obtained  grants  of  office  and  territory  in 
the  New  World — was  scattered  as  lightly  as  it  was  won. 
The  shrewd  and  unprincipled  of  the  less  favored  classes, 
therefore,  soon  learned  to  gather  round  its  possessors, 
as  they  came  home  with  their  tempting  burdens,  and 
found  ready  means  to  profit  by  the  golden  shower  that 
fell  on  all  sides,  with  a profusion  which  carried  an  un- 
healthy action  through  every  division  of  society.  Little, 
however,  could  be  obtained  by  men  so  humble  and  in  a 
position  so  false,  except  by  the  arts  of  cunning  and  flat- 
tery. Cunning  and  flattery,  therefore,  were  soon  called 
forth  among  them  in  great  abundance.  The  wealth  of 
the  Indies  was  a rich  compost,  that  brought  up  para- 
sites and  rogues  with  other  noxious  weeds ; and  Paul, 
the  son  of  a barber,  and  nephew  of  a hangman ; Cor- 
tadillo,  a young  thief,  whose  father  was  a village  tailor ; 
and  Little  Lazarus,  who  could  never  settle  his  genealogy 
to  his  own  satisfaction,  became,  in  the  literature  of  their 
country,  the  permanent  representatives  of  their  class  ; — 
a class  well  known  under  the  degrading  name  of  the 
Catariberas^  or  the  gayer  one  of  P'lcaros. 

The  first  instance  of  a fiction  founded  on  this  state  of 
things  was,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  “ Lazarillo  de 

1 For  these  low,  vagabond  attor-  Catariberas,  — see,  ante,  Vol.  I.  p. 
neys,  or  jackals  of  attorneys,  — the  519,  and  note. 


Chap.  XXXIV.]. 


GUZMAN  DE  ALFARACHE. 


59 


Tormes  ” of  Mendoza,  which  was  published  as  early  as 
1554;  a bold,  unfinished  sketch  of  the  life  of  a rogue, 
from  the  A’ery  lowest  condition  in  society.  This  was  fol- 
lowed, forty-five  years  afterwards,  by  the  “ Guzman  de 
Alfarache”  of  Mateo  Aleman,  the  most  ample  portrait- 
ure of  the  class  to  which  it  belongs  that  is  to  be  found 
in  Spanish  literature.  What  induced  Aleman  to  write 
it  we  do  not  know.  Indeed,  we  know  little  about  him, 
except  that  he  wms  a native  of  Seville,  and  wrote  three 
or  four  other  works  of  less  consequence  than  this  tale ; 
that  he  was  long  employed  in  the  treasury  department 
of  the  government,  and  subjected  to  a vexatious  suit  at 
law  in  consequence  of  it ; and  that  at  last,  retiring  of 
his  own  choice  to  private  life,  he  visited  Mexico  in 
1609,  and  devoted  the  remainder  of  his  days,  either 
there  or  in  Spain,  to  letters.^  He  may,  at  some  period, 
have  been  a soldier ; for  one  of  his  friends,  in  a eulo- 
gium  prefixed  to  the  second  part  of  “ Guzman  de  Al- 
farache,” sums  up  his  character  by  saying  that  “ never 
soldier  had  a poorer  purse  or  a richer  heart,  or  a life 
more  unquiet  and  full  of  trouble,  than  his  was ; and  all 
because  he  accounted  it  a greater  honor  to  be  a poor 
philosopher  than  a rich  flatterer.” 


2 Antonio,  Bib.  Nova,  Article  Mat- 
tJuBus  Aleman ; and  Salva,  Repertorio 
Americano,  1827,  Tom.  III.  p.  65. 
For  his  troubles  with  the  government, 
see  Navarrete,  “ Vida  de  Cervantes,” 
1819,  p.  441.  He  seems  to  have  been 
old  when  he  went  to  Mexico  ; and  Don 
Adolfo  de  Castro,  at  the  end  of  the 
“ Buscapie,”  1848,  gives  ns  a letter, 
dated  at  Seville,  April  20th,  1607, 
from  Aleman  to  Cervantes,  of  whose 
origin  or  discovery  we  receive  no  ac- 
count whatever,  and  into  which  its 
author  seems  to  have  thrust  all  the 
proverbs  and  allusions  he  could  col- 
lect ; — none,  however,  so  obscure  that 
the  curious  learning  of  Don  Adolfo 
cannot  elucidate  them.  The  whole 


letter  is  a complaint  of  Aleman’s  own 
hard  fortune,  and  a prediction  of  that 
of  Cervantes,  ending  with  a declara- 
tion of  the  purpose  of  its  writer  to  go 
to  Mexico.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  to 
be  genuine ; but  if  it  is,  it  gives  the 
coup  de  grace  to  Clemencin's  conjec- 
tures, in  his  notes  to  both  the  first  and 
second  part  of  Don  Quixote,  (Parte 
I.  c.  22,  and  Parte  II.  c.  4,)  that  Cer- 
vantes intended  to  speak  slightingly 
of  the  “ Guzman  de  Alfarache  ” ; — a 
conjecture  not  to  be  sustained,  if  the 
relations  of  Cervantes  with  Aleman 
were  as  friendly  as  this  letter,  pub- 
lished by  Don  Adolfo  de  Castro,  im- 
plies. 


60  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

But  whatever  he  may  have  been,  or  whatever  he  may 
have  suffered,  his  claims  to  be  remembered  are  now  cen- 
tred in  his  “ Guzman  de  Alfarache.”  As  it  has  reach- 
ed us,  it  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  first  of  which 
was  published  at  Madrid,  in  1599.  Its  hero,  who  sup- 
posed himself  to  be  the  son  of  a decayed  and  not  very 
reputable  Genoese  merchant  established  at  Seville,  es- 
capes, as  a boy,  from  his  mother,  after  his  father’s  ruin 
and  death,  and  plunges  into  the  world  upon  adventure. 
He  soon  finds  himself  at  Madrid,  though  not  till  he  has 
passed  through  the  hands  of  the  officers  of  justice ; and 
there  undergoes  all  sorts  of  suffering,  serving  as  a scul- 
lion to  a cook,  and  as  a ragged  errand-boy  to  whomso- 
ever would  employ  him ; until,  seizing  a good  opportu- 
nity, he  steals  a large  sum  of  money  that  had  been 
intrusted  to  him,  and  escapes  to  Toledo,  where  he  sets 
up  for  a gentleman.  But  there  he  becomes,  in  his  turn, 
the  victim  of  a cunning  like  his  own ; and,  finding  his 
money  nearly  gone,  enlists  for  the  Italian  wars.  His 
star  is  now  on  the  wane.  At  Barcelona,  he  again  turns 
sharper  and  thief  At  Genoa  and  Rome,  he  sinks  to 
the  lowest  conditions  of  a street  beggar.  But  a cardi- 
nal picks  him  up  in  the  last  city  and  makes  him  his 
page;  a place  in  which,  but  for  his  bold  frauds  and 
tricks,  he  might  long  have  thriven,  and  which  at  last 
he  leaves  in  great  distress,  from  losses  at  play,  and  en- 
ters the  service  of  the  French  ambassador. 

Here  the  first  part  ends.  It  was  very  successful ; 
falling  in  with  the  vices  and  humors  of  the  times,  just 
as  the  loose  court  of  Philip  the  Third,  and  the  corrupt- 
ing influences  of  his  favorite,  the  Duke  of  Lerma,  came 
to  offer  a sort  of  carnival  to  folly  and  vice,  after  the  hy- 
pocrisy and  constraints  of  the  last  dark  years  of  Philip 
the  Second.  The  Guzman,  therefore,  within  a twelve- 


Chap.  XXXIV.] 


GUZMAN  DE  ALFARACIIE. 


61 


month  after  it  appeared,  passed  through  three  editions ; 
and,  in  less  than  six  years,  through  twenty-six,  besides 
being  translated  into  French  and  Italian.^  It  was  imi- 
tated, too,  in  a second  part  by  some  unknown  person, 
probably  by  Juan  Marti,  a Valencian  advocate,  who 
disguised  himself  under  the  name  of  Mateo  Luxan 
de  Sayavedra,  and  published  in  1603  what  he  boldly 
called  a continuation  of  the  Guzman."*  But  it  was  a 
base  attempt,  which,  though  not  without  literary  merit, 
brought  upon  its  author  the  just  reproaches  of  Aleman, 
who  intimates  that  his  own  manuscripts  had  been  im- 
properly used  in  its  composition,  and  the  just  sarcasm 
of  Aleman’s  friend,  Luis  de  Valdes,  who  exposed  the 
meanness  of  the  whole  fraud. 

In  1605,  the  genuine  second  part  appeared.**  It  be- 


3 The  first  three  editions,  those  of 
Madrid,  Barcelona,  and  Saragossa, 
are  well  known,  and  are  all  of  1599 ; 
hut  most  of  the  remaining  three-and- 
twenty  rest  on  the  authority  of  Valdes, 
in  a letter  prefixed  to  the  first  edition 
of  the  second  part,  (Valencia,  1605, 
12mo,)  an  authority,  however,  which 
there  seems  no  sufficient  reason  to 
question,  remarkable  as  the  story  is. 
Valdes  says  expressly,  “The  number 
of  printed  volumes  exceeds  fifty  thou- 
sand, and  the  number  of  impressions 
that  have  come  to  my  notice  is  twen- 
ty-six.” 

^ This  continuation,  not  quite  so 
long  as  the  first  part  of  the  original 
work,  was  printed  at  Madrid,  1846, 
8vo,  in  the  third  volume  of  the  “ Hib- 
lioteca”  of  Aribau.  Previously,  it  had 
been  hardly  known  in  literary  history, 
and  much  overlooked  by  the  bibliogra- 
phers ; Ebert,  who  had  found  some 
traces  of  it,  attributing  it  to  Aleman 
himself,  and  considering  it  as  a true 
second  part  of  the  Guzman.  But 
this  is  a mistake.  Both  Aleman  him- 
self and  his  friend  Valdes  are  explicit 
on  the  subject,  in  their  epistles  pre- 
fixed to  the  first  edition  of  the  second 
part ; — Valdes  declaring  that  the  au- 


thor of  the  continuation  in  question 
was  “ a Valencian,  who,  falsifying  his 
own  name,  called  himself  Mateo  Lu- 
xan, to  assimilate  himself  to  Mateo 
Aleman.”  Aleman  himself  says  he 
was  obliged  to  rewrite  his  second 
part,  because  he  had,  through  a prodi- 
gal communication  of  his  papers,  been 
robbed  and  defrauded  of  the  materials 
out  of  which  he  had  originally  com- 
posed it.  The  work  of  the  Valencian 
was  printed  at  Barcelona  in  1603,  at 
Brussels,  1604,  etc.  On  the  title-page 
to  the  first  edition  of  the  genuine 
second  part  Aleman  says,  “ Let  the 
reader  take  notice,  that  the  second 
part  published  before  this  is  none  of 
mine,  and  that  this  is  the  only  one  I 
recognize.”  Foster,  in  his  “ Biblio- 
teca,”  Tom.  1.  p.  198,  gives  strong 
reasons  for  supposing  the  spurious 
second  part  was  written  by  Juan  Mar- 
ti, a Valencian  advocate. 

3 There  has  been  some  confusion 
about  the  time  of  the  first  appearance 
of  these  two  second  parts  ; one  having 
sometimes  been  mistaken  for  the  oth- 
er. But  Foster  evidently  believed  in 
no  edition  of  tlie  spurious  second  part 
older  than  1603,  the  license  to  wdiich 
is  dated  in  1602  ; and  I possess  the 


F 


62 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


gins  with  the  life  of  Guzman  in  the  house  of  the  French 
ambassador  at  Rome,  where  he  serves  in  some  of  the 
most  dishonorable  employments  to  which  the  great  of 
that  period  degraded  their  mercenary  dependants.  But 
his  own  follies  and  crimes  drive  him  away  from  a place 
for  Avhich  he  seems  to  have  been  in  most  respects  well 
fitted,  and  he  goes  to  Siena.  At  this  point  in  his 
story,  it  seems  to  have  occurred  to  Aleman  to  attack 
the  Sayavedra  who  had  endeavoured  to  impose  upon 
the  world  with  a false  second  part  of  the  Guzman.  He 
therefore  introduces  a person  who  is  made  thus  to  de- 
scribe himself : — 

“ He  told  me,”  says  Guzman,  who  always  writes  ui 
the  style  of  autobiography,  “ he  told  me,  that  he  was  an 
Andalusian,  born  in  Seville,  my  own  native  city,  Saya- 
vedra by  name,  with  papers  to  show  that  he  belonged 
to  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  distinguished  families 
among  us.  Who  would  suspect  fraud  under  such  a fair 
outside  1 And  yet  it  was  all  a lie.  He  was  a V alen- 
cian.  I do  not  give  his  true  name,  for  good  reasons ; 
but  what  with  his  flowing  Castilian,  his  good  looks, 
and  his  agreeable  manners,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to 
suspect  that  he  was  a thief,  a sponge,  and  a cheat,  who 
had  dressed  himself  up  in  peacock’s  feathers  only  to 
obtain  by  falsehood  such  an  entrance  into  my  apart- 
ments that  he  could  rob  me  of  whatever  he  liked.”  ^ 

This  personage,  his  history  and  adventures.  All  too 
large  a space  in  the  second  part  of  the  Guzman ; for 
when  once  Aleman  had  seized  him,  he  seemed  not  to 
tire  of  inflicting  punishment  so  soon  as  the  reader  does 
of  witnessing  it.  Sayavedra  robs  and  cheats  Guzman 

edition  of  the  genuine  second  part,  the  usual  proofs  of  being  the  first, 
printed  at  Valencia  in  1605,  with  a Both  of  the  second  parts  promise  a 
license  of  the  same  year,  recognizing  third,  which  never  appeared, 
no  earlier  publication,  and  bearing  all  6 Parte  II.  Lib.  I.  c.  8. 


Chap.  XXXIV.] 


GUZMAN  DE  ALFARACHE. 


63 


early  in  this  portion  of  the  story ; but  afterwards  accom- 
panies him,  in  an  equivocal  capacity,  through  Milan, 
Bologna,  and  Genoa,  to  Spain,  where,  partly  perhaps 
to  get  rid  of  him,  and  partly  perhaps,  as  Cervantes  did 
afterwards  in  the  case  of  Don  Quixote  and  Avella- 
neda,  in  order  to  end  his  story  and  prevent  his  enemy 
from  continuing  it  any  further,  Aleman  brings  his  vic- 
tim’s life  to  an  end. 

The  remainder  of  the  book  is  filled  with  the  adven- 
tures of  Guzman  himself,  which  are  as  wdld  and  various 
as  possible.  He  becomes  a merchant  at  Madrid,  and 
cheats  his  creditors  by  a fraudulent  bankruptcy.  He 
marries,  but  his  wife  dies  soon ; and  then  he  begins,  as 
a student  at  Alcala,  to  prepare  himself  for  the  Church ; 
— a consummation  of  wickedness  which  is  prevented 
only  by  his  marriage  a second  time.  His  second  wife, 
however,  leaves  him  at  Seville,  where  he  had  established 
himself,  and  elopes  with  a lover  to  Italy.  After  this,  he 
is  reduced  again  to  abject  poverty;  and,  unable  to  live 
with  his  old,  wretched,  and  shameless  mother,  he  be- 
comes major-domo  to  a lady  of  fortune,  robs  her,  and  is 
sent  to  the  galleys,  where  he  has  the  good  luck  to  reveal 
a conspiracy  and  is  rewarded  with  his  freedom  and  a 
full  pardon. 

With  this  announcement  the  second  part  abruptly 
ends,  not  without  promising  a third,  which  Avas  never 
published,  though  the  author,  in  his  Preface,  says  it  was 
already  written.  The  work,  therefore,  as  it  has  come  to 
us,  is  imperfect.  But  it  was  not,  on  that  account,  the 
less  favored  and  admired.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  trans- 
lated and  printed  all  over  Europe,  in  French,  in  Italian, 
in  German,  in  Portuguese,  in  English,  in  Dutch,  and 
eA'en  in  Latm;  a rare  success,  AAdiose  secret  lies  part- 
ly in  the  age  when  the  Guzman  appeared,  and  still 


64 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


more  in  the  power  and  talent  of  the  author.^  The 
long  moralizing  discourses  with  which  it  abounds, 
written  in  a pure  Castilian  style,  with  much  quaint- 
ness and  point,  were  then  admired,  and  saved  it  from 
censures  which  it  could  otherwise  hardly  have  failed 
to  encounter.  These  are,  no  doubt,  the  passages  that 
led  Ben  Jonson  to  speak  of  it  as 

“ The  Spanish  Proteus,  which,  though  writ 
But  in  one  tongue,  was  formed  with  the  world’s  wit. 

And  hath  the  noblest  mark  of  a good  booke, 

That  an  ill  man  doth  not  securely  looke 
Upon  it ; but  will  loathe  or  let  it  passe, 

As  a deformed  face  doth  a true  glasse.’’^ 

This,  however,  is  not  its  real,  or  at  least  not  its  main 
character.  The  Guzman  is  chiefly  curious  and  interest- 
ing because  it  shows  us,  in  the  costume  of  the  times,  the 
life  of  an  ingenious.  Machiavellian  rogue,  who  is  never 
at  a loss  for  an  expedient ; who  always  treats  himself 
and  speaks  of  himself  as  an  honest  and  respectable 
man ; and  who  sometimes  goes  to  mass  and  says  his 
prayers  just  before  he  enters  on  an  extraordinary  scheme 
of  roguery,  as  if  on  purpose  to  bring  it  out  in  more 
striking  and  brilliant  relief.  So  far  from  being  a moral 
book,  therefore,  it  is  a very  immoral  one,  and  Le  Sage 
spoke  in  the  spirit  of  its  author,  when,  in  the  next  cen- 
tury, undertaking  to  give  a new  French  version  of  it,  he 
boasted  that  he  “ had  purged  it  of  its  superfluous  moral 
reflections.”® 


The  common  bibliographers  give 
lists  of  all  the  translations.  The  first 
English  is  by  Mabbe,  and  is  excel- 
lent. (See  Wood’s  Athenae,  ed.  Bliss, 
Tom.  III.  p.  54,  and  Ret.  Review, 
Tom.  V.  p.  189.)  It  went  through  at 
least  four  editions,  the  fourth  being 
printed  at  London,  1656,  folio ; be- 
sides which  there  has  been  a subse- 
quent translation  by  several  hands, 
taken,  however,  I think,  from  the 


French  of  Le  Sage.  The  Latin  trans- 
lation was  by  Gaspar  Ens,  and  I have 
seen  editions  of  it  referred  to  as  of 
1623,  1624,  and  1652.  Every  thing, 
indeed,  shows  that  the  popular  suc- 
cess of  the  Guzman  was  immense 
throughout  Europe. 

® See  the  verses  prefixed  to  the 
translation  of  Mabbe,  and  signed  by 
Ben  Jonson. 

9 There  are  four  French  transla- 


Chap.  XXXIV.] 


GUZMAN  DE  ALFARACHE. 


65 


It  has,  naturally,  a considerable  number  of  episodes. 
That  of  Sayavedra  has  already  been  noticed,  as  occupy- 
ing a space  in  the  work  disproportionate  to  every  thing 
but  the  anger  of  its  author.  Another — the  story  of 
Osmjm  and  Daraxa,  which  occurs  early — is  a pleasing 
specimen  of  those  half-Moorish,  half-Christian  fictions 
that  are  so  characteristic  a portion  of  Spanish  literature. 
And  yet  another,  which  is  placed  in  Spain  and  in  the 
time  of  the  Great  Constable,  Alvaro  de  Luna,  is,  after 
all,  an  Italian  tale  of  Masuccio,  used  subsequently  by- 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher  in  “ The  Little  French  Law- 
yer.” But,  on  the  whole,  the  attention  of  the  reader  is 
fairly  kept  either  upon  the  hero  or  upon  the  long  dis- 
cussions in  which  the  hero  indulges  himself,  and  in 
which  he  draws  striking,  though  not  unfrequently  exag- 
gerated and  burlesque,  sketches  of  all  classes  of  society- 
in  Spain,  as  they  successively  pass  in  review  before 
him.  At  first,  Aleman  thought  of  calling  his  work  “A 
Beacon-light  of  Life.”  The  name  would  not  have 
been  inappropriate,  and  it  is  the  qualities  implied  un- 
der it  — the  sagacity,  the  knowledge  of  life  and  charac- 
ter, and  the  acuteness  of  its  reflections  on  men  and  man- 
ners — that  have  preserved  for  it  somewhat  of  its 
original  popularity  down  to  our  own  times. 

In  1605  another  story  of  the  same  class  appeared, 

tions  of  it,  beginning  with  one  by  much  too  young  to  tell  such  a story. 
Chappuis,  in  1600,  and  coming  down  It  may  be  noted,  also,  that  Guzman 
to  that  of  Le  Sage,  1732,  which  last  grows  very  suddenly  to  man's  estate, 
has  been  many  times  reprinted.  The  after  leaving  Madrid  and  before  reach- 
third  in  the  order  of  dates  was  made  ing  Toledo,  whither  he  went  as  fast 
by  Bremont,  while  in  prison  in  Hoi-  as  he  could  to  escape  pursuit, 
land  ; and,  out  of  spite  against  the  u Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  ed.  We- 
ad ministration  of  justice,  from  which  ber,  Edinburgh,  1812,  8vo,  Vol.  V. 
he  was  suffering,  he  made  bitter  addi-  p.  120.  Le  Sage  omits  it  in  his  ver- 
tions  to  the  original  whenever  a judge  sion,  because,  he  says,  Scarron  had 
or  a bailiff  came  into  his  hands.  See  made  it  one  in  his  collection  of  tales, 
the  Preface  of  Le  Sage.  It  has,  in  fact,  been  often  used,  as  have 

Parte  1.  Lib.  1.  c.  8.  It  is  re-  many  other  stories  of  the  same  class, 
lated  by  Guzman,  however,  who  is 

9 F ^ 


VOL.  III. 


66  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

the  “ Picara  Justina,”  or  the  Crafty  Justina,  — again 
a seeming  autobiography,  and  again  a fiction  of  very 
doubtful  morality.  It  was  written  by  a Dominican 
monk,  Andreas  Perez  of  Leon,  who  was  known,  both 
before  and  after  its  appearance,  as  the  author  of  works 
of  Christian  devotion,  and  who  had  so  far  a sense  of 
the  incongruity  of  the  Picara  Justina  with  his  re- 
ligious position,  that  he  printed  it  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Francisco  Lopez  de  Ubeda.  He  claims  to  have 
written  it  Avhen  he  was  a student  at  the  University  of 
Alcala,  but  admits,  that,  after  the  appearance  of  the 
“ Guzman  de  Alfarache,”  he  made  large  additions  to  it. 
It  is,  however,  in  truth,  a mere  imitation,  and  a very 
poor  one,  of  Aleman.  The  first  book  is  filled  with  a 
tedious,  rambling  account  of  Justina’s  ancestors,  who 
are  barbers  and  puppet-showmen  ; and  the  rest  consists 
of  her  OAvn  life,  brought  doAvn  to  the  time  of  her  first 
marriage,  marked  by  few  adventures,  and  ending  with 
an  intimation,  that,  at  the  time  of  writing  it,  she  had 
already  been  married  yet  Uvice  more;  that  she  was 
then  the  wife  of  Guzman  de  Alfarache;  and  that  she 
should  continue  her  memoirs  still  further,  in  case  the 
public  should  care  to  hear  more  about  her. 

The  Justina  discovers  little  power  of  invention  in  the 
incidents,  which  are  few  and  not  interesting.  Indeed, 
the  author  himself  declares  that  nearly  all  of  them  were 
actual  occurrences  within  his  own  experience ; and  this 
circumstance,  together  with  the  meagre  “ improvements,” 
as  they  are  called, — or  warnings  against  the  follies  and 
guilt  of  the  heroine,  with  which  each  chapter  ends,  — 
is  regarded  by  him  as  a sufficient  justification  for  pub- 
lishing a Avork  whose  tendency  is  obviously  mischievous. 
Nor  is  the  style  better  than  the  incidents.  There  is  a 
constant  effort  to  say  witty  and  brilliant  things ; but  it 


Chap.  XXXIV.] 


LA  PICARA  JUSTINA. 


67 


is  rarely  successful ; and  besides  this,  there  is  an  affecta- 
tion of  new  words  and  singular  phrases  which  do  not 
belong  to  the  genius  and  analogies  of  the  language,  and 
which  have  caused  at  least  one  Spanish  critic  to  re- 
gard Perez  as  the  first  author  who  left  the  sober  and 
dignified  style  of  the  elder  times,  and,  from  mere  ca- 
price, undertook  to  invent  a new  one.*^ 

But  though  the  “Picara  Justina”  proved  a failure, 
the  overwhelming  popularity  of  “Guzman  de  Alfarache,” 
when  added  to  that  of  “ Lazarillo,”  rendered  this  form 
of  fiction  so  generally  welcome  in  Spain,  that  it  made  its 
way  into  the  ductile  drama,  and  into  the  style  of  the 
shorter  tales,  as  we  have  already  seen  when  treating  of 
Lope  de  Vega  and  Cervantes,  and  as  we  shall  see  here- 
after when  Ave  come  to  speak  of  Salas  Barbadillo  and 
Francisco  de  Santos.  Meantime,  however,  the  “ Escu- 
dero  Marcos  de  Obregon  ” appeared ; a work  which  has, 
on  many  accounts,  attracted  attention,  and  which  de- 
serves to  be  remembered,  as  the  best  of  its  kind  in  Span- 
ish literature,  except  “ Lazarillo  ” and  “ Guzman.” 

It  was  written  by  Vicente  Espinel,  who  was  born 
about  1540,  at  Honda,  a romantic  town,  boldly  built  in 
the  mountain  range  that  stretches  through  the  south- 
western portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  and  pic- 


The  first  edition  of  the  “ Picara 
Justina”  is  that  of  Medina  del  Campo, 
1605,  4to,  since  which  time  it  has 
been  often  printed ; the  best  edition 
being  probably  that  of  Madrid,  1735, 
4to,  edited  by  Mayans  y Siscar,  who, 
in  a prefatory  notice,  makes  the  re- 
proach against  its  author,  as  the  oldest 
corrupter  of  the  Spanish  prose  style, 
alluded  to  in  the  text.  There  is  a good 
deal  of  poetry  scattered  through  the 
volume  ; all  very  conceited  and  poor. 
Some  of  it  is  in  that  sort  of  verses  from 
which  the  final  syllable  is  cut  off,  — 
such  verses,  I mean,  as  Cervantes  has 


prefixed  to  the  first  part  of  Don  Quix- 
ote ; q.nd  as  both  that  part  and  the 
“Picara  Justina”  were  originally 
published  in  the  same  year,  1605, 
some  question  has  arisen  with  Pellicer 
and  Clemencin,  who  is  the  inventor  of 
these  poor,  truncated  verses.  Le  jcu  ne 
vaut  pas  la  chandeUe.  But,  as  the  first 
part  of  Don  Quixote,  according  to  the 
Tassa  prefixed  to  it,  was  struck  off 
as  early  as  the  20th  of  December, 
1604,  though  the  full  copyright  was 
not  granted  till  the  9th  of  February 
following,  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  Cervantes  was  the  earliest. 


68 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


turesquely  described  by  himself  in  one  of  the  most 
striking  of  his  poems.'^  He  was  educated  at  Salamanca, 
and,  when  Lope  de  Vega  appeared  as  a poet  before  the 
public,  Espinel  was  already  so  far  advanced  in  his  own 
career,  that  the  young  aspirant  for  public  favor  submit- 
ted his  verses  to  the  critical  skill  of  his  elder  friend ; 
— a favor  Avhich  Lope  afteiAvards  returned  by  praises 
in  “ The  Laurel  of  Apollo,”  more  heartfelt  and  effective 
than  he  has  usually  given  in  that  indiscriminate  eulo- 
gium  of  the  poets  of  his  time.^^ 

What  was  the  course  of  Espinel’ s life  we  do  not 
know.  It  has  generally  been  supposed  that  many  of 
its  events  are  related  in  his  “ Marcos  de  Obregon  ” ; but 
though  this  is  probable,  and  though  some  parts  of  that 
story  are  evidently  true,  yet  many  others  are  as  evident- 
ly fictions,  so  that,  on  the  whole,  we  are  bound  to  re- 
gard it  as  a romance,  and  not  as  an  autobiography.  We 
knoAV,  however,  that  Espinel’ s life  in  Italy  was  much 
like  that  of  his  hero ; that  he  was  a soldier  in  Flanders ; 
that  he  Avrote  Latin  verses ; that  he  published  a volume 
of  Castilian  poetry  in  1591 ; and  that  he  was  a chaplain 
in  Honda,  though  he  lived  much  in  Madrid,  and  at  last 
died  there.  He  Avas  regarded  as  the  author  of  the  form 
of  verse  called  sometimes  decimas,  and  sometimes,  after 
himself,  Espinelas  ; and  he  is  said  to  have  added  a fifth 
string  to  the  guitar,  Avhich  soon  led  to  the  invention  of 
the  sixth,  and  thus  completed  that  truly  national  instru- 
ment.'® He  died,  according  to  Antonio,  in  1634;  but 
according  to  Lope  de  Vega,  he  Avas  not  alive  in  1630. 

13  See  the  “ Cancion  a su  Patria,”  ^ Espinel’s  own  Prologo  to  “ Mar- 
which  is  creditable  alike  to  his  per-  cos  de  Obregon.” 
sonal  feelings  and  — with  the  excep-  *3  End  of  the  first  silva  to  the 
tion  of  a few  foolish  conceits  — to  his  “ Laurel  de  Apolo,”  which  was  pub- 
poetical  character.  Diversas  Rimas  lished  in  1630. 
de  V.  Espinel,  Madrid,  1591,  13mo,  i6  Lope  de  Vega,  Dorotea,  Acto  I. 
f.  23.  Sc.  8. 


Chap.  XXXIV.] 


MARCOS  DE  OBREGON. 


69 


All  accounts,  however,  represent  him  as  having  survived 
his  ninetieth  year,*^  and  as  having  passed  the  latter  part 
of  his  life  in  poverty  and  in  unfriendly  relations  with 
Cervantes ; — a fact  the  more  observable,  because  both 
of  them  enjoyed  pensions  from  the  same  distinguished 
ecclesiastic,  the  kindly  old  Archbishop  of  Toledo. 

The  “ Escudero  Marcos  de  Obregon  ” was  first  pub- 
lished in  1618,  and  therefore  appeared  in  the  old  age  of 
its  author.^®  He  presents  his  hero,  at  once,  as  a person 
already  past  the  middle  years  of  life ; one  of  the 
esquires  of  dames,  who,  at  that  period,  were  person- 
ages of  humbler  pretensions  and  graver  character  than 
those  who,  with  the  same  title,  had  followed  the  men-at- 
arms  of  old.^°  The  story  of  Marcos,  however,  though 
it  opens  upon  us,  at  first,  with  scenes  later  in  his  life, 
soon  returns  to  his  youth,  and  nearly  the  whole  volume 
is  made  up  of  his  own  account  of  his  adventures,  as  he 
related  them  to  a hermit  whom  he  had  known  when 
he  was  a soldier  in  Flanders  and  Italy,  and  at  whose 
cell  he  was  now  accidentally  detained  by  a storm  and 
flood,  while  on  an  excursion  from  Madrid. 

In  many  particulars,  his  history  resembles  that  of  his 


17  Noventa  anos  viviste, 

Nadie  te  dio  favor,  poco  escribisle,  — 

says  Lope,  in  the  “ Laurel.” 

Salas  Barbadillo,  Estafeta  del 
Dios  Momo,  1627,  Dedicacion.  Na- 
varrete,  Vida  de  Cervantes,  1819,  8vo, 
pp.  178,  406. 

1®  The  first  edition  is  dedicated  to 
his  patron,  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo, 
whose  daily  pension  to  him,  however, 
may  have  well  been  called  “ alms  ” — 
limosna  — by  Salas  Barbadillo.  Other 
editions  followed,  and  “ Marcos”  has 
continued  to  be  reprinted  and  read  in 
Spain  down  to  our  own  times.  In 
London,  a good  English  translation  of 
it,  by  Major  Algernon  Langton,  was 
published  in  1816,  in  two  volumes,  8vo ; 


and  in  Breslau,  in  1827,  there  appear- 
ed a very  spirited,  but  somewhat  free, 
translation  into  German,  by  Tieck,  in 
two  volumes,  18mo,  with  a valuable 
Preface  and  good  notes.  The  origi- 
nal is  on  the  Index  of  1667  for  ex- 
purgation. 

The  Escudero  of  tlie  plays  and 
novels  of  the  seventeenth  century  is 
wholly  different  from  the  Escudero  of 
the  romances  of  chivalry  of  the  six- 
teenth. Covarrubias,  in  verb.,  well 
describes  both  sorts,  adding,  “ Now- 
a-days  ” (1611)  “ esquires  are  chiefly 
used  by  ladies,  but  men  who  have  any 
thing  to  live  upon  prefer  to  keep  at 
home  ; for  as  esquires  they  earn  little, 
and  have  a hard  service  of  it.” 


70 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


predecessor,  Guzman  de  Alfarache.  It  is  the  story  of 
a youth  who  left  his  father’s  house  to  seek  his  fortune ; 
became  first  a student  and  afterwards  a soldier ; visited 
Italy ; was  a captive  in  Algiers ; travelled  over  a large 
part  of  Spain ; and  after  going  through  a great  variety 
of  dangers  and  trials,  intrigues,  follies,  and  crimes,  sits 
down  quietly  in  his  old  age  to  give  an  account  of 
them  all,  with  an  air  as  grave  and  self-satisfied  as  if  the 
greater  part  of  them  had  not  been  of  the  most  discred- 
itable character.  It  contains  a moderate  number  of 
wearisome,  well-written  moral  reflections,  intended  to 
render  its  record  of  tricks,  frauds,  and  crimes  more 
savory  to  the  reader  by  contrast;  but  though  it  falls 
below  both  the  “ Guzman  de  Alfarache  ” and  the 
“ Lazarillo  ” in  the  beauty  and  spirit  of  its  style,  it  has 
more  life  in  its  action  than  either  of  them,  and  the 
series  of  its  events  is  carried  on  with  greater  rapidity, 
and  brought  to  a more  regular  conclusion.^* 


“ Marcos  de  Obregon  ” has  been 
occasionally  a good  deal  discussed, 
both  by  those  who  have  read  it  and 
those  who  have  not,  from  the  use  Le 
Sage  has  been  supposed  to  have  made 
of  it  in  the  composition  of  Gil  Bias. 
The  charge  was  first  announced  by 
Voltaire,  who  had  personal  reasons  to 
dislike  Le  Sage,  and  who,  in  his 
“ Sieclede  Louis  XIV.,”  (1752,)  said, 
boldly  enough,  that  “ The  Gil  Bias 
is  taken  entirely  from  the  Spanish  ro- 
mance entitled  ‘ La  Vidad  de  lo  Escu- 
diero  Dom  Marcos  d’Obrego.’ ” (CEu- 
vres,  ed.  Beaumarchais,  Paris,  1785, 
8vo,  Tom.  XX.  p.  155.)  This  is  one 
of  the  remarks  Voltaire  sometimes 
hazarded,  with  little  knowledge  of  the 
matter  he  was  discussing,  and  it  is 
not  true.  That  Le  Sage  had  seen  the 
Marcos  de  Obregon”  there  can  be 
no  doubt ; and  none  that  he  made  some 
use  of  it  in  the  composition  of  the  Gil 
Bias.  This  is  apparent  at  once  by 
the  story  which  constitutes  its  Preface, 
and  which  is  taken  from  a similar 
story  in  the  Prdlogo  to  the  Spanish 


romance ; and  it  is  no  less  plain  fre- 
quently afterwards,  in  the  body  of  the 
wmrk,  where  the  trick  played  on  the 
vanity  of  Gil  Bias,  as  he  is  going  to 
Salamanca,  (Lib.  I.  c.  2,)  is  substan- 
tially the  same  with  that  played  on 
Marcos,  (Relacion  1.  Desc.  9,)  — 
where  the  stories  of  Camilla  (Gil  Bias, 
Liv.  1.  c.  16,  Marcos,  Rel.  III.  Desc.  8) 
and  of  Mergellina  (Gil  Bias,  Liv.  11. 
c.  7,  Marcos,  Rel.  1.  Desc.  3),  with 
many  other  matters  of  less  conse- 
quence, correspond  in  a manner  not  to 
be  mistaken.  But  this  was  the  way 
with  Le  Sage,  who  has  used  Esteva- 
nillo  Gonzalez,  Guevara,  Roxas,  Anto- 
nio de  Mendoza,  and  others,  with  no 
more  ceremony.  He  seemeh  too,  to 
care  very  little  about  concealment,  for 
one  of  the  personages  in  his  Gil  Bias 
is  called  Marcos  de  Obregon.  But  the 
idea  that  the  Gil  Bias  was  taken  entirely 
from  the  Marcos  de  Obregon  of  Espi- 
nel,  or  was  very  seriously  indebted  to 
that  work,  is  absurd.  See  the  next 
Period,  Chap.  IV.,  note  on  Father 
Isla. 


Chap.  XXXIV.]  ALONSO  MOZO  DE  MUCHOS  AMOS.  71 

Ten  years  later,  another  romance  of  the  same  sort 
appeared.  It  was  by  Yanez  y Eivera,  a physician  of 
Segovia ; who,  as  if  on  purpose  to  show  the  variety  of 
his  talent,  published  two  works  on  ascetic  devotion,  as 
well  as  this  picaresque  romance ; all  of  them  remote 
from  the  cares  and  studies  of  his  regular  profession. 
He  calls  his  story  “ Alonso,  the  Servant  of  Many  Mas- 
ters ” ; and  the  name  is  a sort  of  index  to  its  contents. 
For  it  is  a history  of  the  adventures  of  its  hero,  Alonso, 
in  the  seiuice,  first  of  a military  officer,  then  of  a sacris- 
tan, and  afterwards  of  a gentleman,  of  a la^v}'er,  and  of 
not  a few  others,  who  happened  to  be  willing  to  employ 
him ; and  it  is,  in  fact,  neither  more  nor  less  than  a sat- 
ire on  the  different  orders  and  conditions  of  society,  as 
he  studies  them  all  in  the  houses  of  his  different  masters. 
It  is  evidently  written  with  experience  of  the  world,  and 
its  Castilian  style  is  good ; but  something  of  its  spirit 
is  diminished  by  the  circumstance,  that  it  is  thrown  into 
the  form  of  a dialogue.  When  Yahez  published  the 
first  part,  in  1624,  he  said  that  he  had  already  been 
a practising  physician  twenty-six  years,  and  that  he 
should  print  nothing  more,  unless  it  related  to  the  pro- 
fession he  followed.  His  success,  however,  with  his 
Alonso  was  too  tempting.  He  printed,  in  1626,  a sec- 
ond part  of  it,  containing  his  hero’s  adventures  among 
the  Gypsies  and  in  Algerine  captivity,  and  died  in  1632.^“ 


^ The  name  of  this  author  is  one 
of  the  many  that  occur  in  Spanish 
literature  and  history,  where  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  determine  which  part  of  it 
should  be  used  to  designate  its  owner. 
The  whole  of  it  is  Geronymo  de  Al- 
cala Yanez  y Rivera  ; and,  no  doubt, 
his  personal  acquaintances  knew  him 
as  “the  Doctor  Gerdnymo.”  In  the 
Index  to  Antonio's  Bib.  Nova,  he 
is  placed  under  Alcala, ; but  as  that 
name  only  implied,  I presume,  that 


he  had  studied  in  Alcala,  I have  pre- 
ferred to  call  him  Yanez  y Rivera,  the 
first  being  his  father's  name  and  the 
second  his  mother's ; and  I mention 
the  circumstance  only  because  it  is  a 
difficulty  which  occurs  in  many  cases 
of  the  same  sort,  and  should  be  noticed 
once  for  all.  The  title  of  his  romance 
is  “ Alonso  Moco  de  Muclios  Amos,” 
and  the  first  part  was  first  printed  at 
Madrid,  in  1624  ; but  my  copy  is  of 
the  edition  of  Barcelona,  1625,  12mo, 


72  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

Quevedo’s  “ Paul  the  Sharper,”  which  we  have  already 
noticed,  was  published  the  year  after  Yanez  had  com- 
pleted his  story,  and  did  much  to  extend  the  favor  with 
which  works  of  this  sort  were  received.  Castillo  Solor- 
zano,  therefore,  well  known  at  the  time  as  a writer  of 
popular  tales  and  dramas,  ventured  to  follow  him,  hut 
with  less  good-fortune.  His  “ Teresa,  the  Child  of  Tricks,” 
was  published  in  1632,  and  was  succeeded  immediately 
by  “ The  Graduate  in  Frauds,”  of  which  a continuation 
appeared  in  1634,  under  the  whimsical  title  of  “ The  Se- 
ville Weasel,  or  a Hook  to  catch  Purses.”  This  last, 
which  is  an  account  of  the  adventures  of  the  Graduate’s 
daughter,  proved,  though  it  was  never  finished,  the  most 
popular  of  Solorzano’s  works,  and  has  not  only  been 
often  reprinted,  but  was  early  translated  into  French, 
and  gained  a reputation  in  Europe  generally.  All  three, 
however,  are  less  strictly  picaresque  tales  than  the  sim- 
ilar fictions  that  had  preceded  them ; — not  that  they 
are  wanting  in  coarse  sketches  of  life  and  caricatures  as 
broad  as  any  in  Guzman,  but  that  romantic  tales,  bal- 
lads, and  even  farces,  or  parts  of  dramas,  are  intro- 
duced, shoAving  that  this  form  of  romance  was  becoming 
mingled  with  others  more  poetical,  if  not  more  true  to 
the  condition  of  manners  and  society  at  the  time.^^ 


showing  that  it  was  well  regarded  in 
its  time,  and  soon  came  to  a second 
edition.  Many  editions  have  been 
published  since  ; sometimes,  like  that 
of  Madrid,  1804,  2 tom.  12mo,  with 
the  title  of  “ El  Donado  Hablador,”  or 
The  Talkative  Lay-Brother,  that  be- 
ing the  character  in  which  the  hero 
tells  his  story.  Yanez  y Rivera  was 
bom  in  1563. 

23  Alonso  de  Castillo  Solorzano 
seems  to  have  had  his  greatest  success 
between  1624  and  1649,  and  was  at 
one  time  in  tbe  service  of  Pedro  Ea- 
xardo,  the  Marquis  of  Velez,  who  was 


Captain- general  of  Valencia.  There 
is  an  edition  of  the  “ Nina  de  los  Em- 
bustes  ” as  early  as  1632,  and  one  of 
the  “ Garduila  de  Sevilla”  in  1634. 
But,  except  the  few  hints  concerning 
their  author  to  be  gathered  from  the 
titles  and  prefaces  to  his  stories,  and 
the  meagre  notices  in  Lope  de  Vega’s 
“ Laurel  de  Apolo,”  Silva  VIIL,  and 
Antonio,  Bib.  Nova,  Tom.  1.  p.  15, 
we  know  little  of  him.  He  sneers  at 
cultismo  on  one  page  of  his  “ Nina  de 
los  Embustes,”  and  falls  into  it  on  the 
next. 


Chap.  XXXIV.]  DON  GREGORIO  GUADANA. 


73 


Another  proof  of  this  change  is  to  be  found  in  “ The 
Pythagoric  Age  ” of  Enriquez  Gomez,  first  published  in 
1644;  a book  of  little  value,  which  takes  the  old  doc- 
trine of  transmigration  as  the  means  of  introducing  a 
succession  of  pictures  to  serve  as  subjects  for  its  satire. 
It  begins  with  a poem  in  irregular  verse,  describing  the 
existence  of  the  soul,  first  in  the  body  of  an  ambitious 
man;  then  in  that  of  a slanderer  and  informer,  a co- 
quette, a minister  of  state,  and  a favorite ; and  it  ends 
with  similar  sketches,  half  in  poetry  and  half  in  prose, 
of  a knight,  a schemer,  and  others.  But  in  the  middle  of 
the  book  is  “ The  Life  of  Don  Gregorio  Guadaiia,”  in 
prose,  which  is  a tale  in  direct  imitation  of  Quevedo 
and  Aleman,  sometimes  as  free  and  coarse  as  theirs  are, 
but  generally  not  ofiending  against  the  proprieties  of 
life ; and  occasionally,  as  in  the  scenes  during  a jour- 
ney and  in  the  town  of  Carmona,  pleasant  and  interest- 
ing, because  it  evidently  gives  us  sketches  from  the 
author’s  o\vn  experience.  Like  the  rest  of  its  class,  it 
is  most  successful  when  it  deals  with  such  realities,  and 
least  so  when  it  wanders  off  into  the  regions  of  poetry 
and  fiction.^^ 

But  the  work  which  most  plainly  shows  the  condition 
of  social  life  that  produced  all  these  tales,  if  not  the 
work  that  best  exhibits  their  character,  is  “ The  Life 


“ El  Siglo  Pitagorico  y la  Vida  de 
Don  Gregorio  Guadafia,”  was  written 
by  Antonio  Enriquez  Gomez,  a Por- 
tuguese by  descent,  who  was  educated 
in  Castile,  and  lived  much  in  France, 
where  several  of  his  works  were  first 
printed.  The  earliest  edition  of  the 
“Siglo  Pitagorico”  is  dated  Rouen, 
1644,  but  the  one  I use  is  of  Brussels, 
1727,  in  4to.  There  is  a notice  of  the 
life  of  Gomez  in  Barbosa,  Tom.  I. 
p.  297,  and  an  examination  of  his 
works  in  Amador  de  los  Rios,  “Ju- 
dios  de  Espaiia,”  1848,  pp.  569,  etc. 

VOL.  III.  10 


He  was  of  a Jewish  Portuguese  fami- 
ly, and  Barbosa  says  lie  was  born  in 
Portugal,  but  Amador  de  los  Rios 
says  he  was  born  in  Segovia.  That 
he  renounced  the  Christian  religion, 
which  his  father  had  adopted,  that  he 
fled  to  France  in  1638,  and  that  he 
was  burnt  in  effigy  by  the  Inquisition 
in  1660,  are  facts  not  doubted.  His 
Spanish  name  was  Enriquez  de  Paz ; 
and  in  the  Preface  to  his  “ Sanson 
Nazareno  ” he  gives  a list  of  his  pub- 
lished works. 


G 


74  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Pekiod  II. 

of  Estevanillo  Gonzalez,”  first  printed  in  1646.  It  is 
the  autobiography  of  a buffoon,  who  was  long  in  the 
service  of  Ottavio  Piccolomini,  the  great  general  of  the 
Thirty  Years’  war;  but  it  is  an  autobiography  so  full 
of  fiction,  that  Le  Sage,  sixty  years  after  its  appearance, 
easily  changed  it  into  a mere  romance,  which  has  con- 
tinued to  be  republished  as  such  with  his  works  ever 
since.^ 

Both  in  the  original  and  in  the  French  translation,  it 
is  called  “ The  Life  and  Achievements  of  Estevanillo 
Gonzalez,  the  Good-natured  Fellow,”  and  gives  an  ac- 
count of  his  travels  all  over  Europe,  and  of  his  adven- 
tures as  courier,  cook,  and  valet  of  the  different  dis- 
tinguished masters  whom  he  at  different  times  served, 
from  the  king  of  Poland  down  to  the  Duke  of  Ossuna. 
Nothing  can  exceed  the  coolness  with  which  he  exhib- 
its himself  as  a liar  by  profession,  a constitutional  cow- 
ard, and  an  accomplished  cheat,  whenever  he  can  thus 
render  his  story  more  amusing ; — but  then,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  he  is  not  without  learning,  writes  gay  verses, 
and  gives  us  sketches  of  his  times  and  of  the  great  men 
to  whom  he  W'as  successively  attached,  that  are  any 
thing  but  dull.  His  life,  indeed,  would  be  worth  read- 
ing, if  it  were  only  to  compare  his  account  of  the  battle 
of  Nordlingen  with  that  in  De  Foe’s  “ Cavalier,”  and  his 
drawing  of  Ottavio  Piccolomini  with  the  stately  por- 
trait of  the  same  personage  in  Schiller’s  “Wallenstein.” 
Its  faults,  on  the  other  hand,  are  a vain  display  of  his 
knowledge ; occasional  attempts  at  grandeur  and  elo- 
quence of  style,  which  never  succeed ; and  numberless 

25  “ Vida  y Hechos  de  Estevanillo  between  these  and  the  one  of  1795, 
Gonzalez,  Hombre  de  Buen  Humor,  hladrid,  2 tom.  12mo,  I do  not  know, 
compuesta  por  el  mismo,”  was  printed  The  rifacimento  of  Le  Sage  appeared, 
at  Antwerp  in  1646,  and  at  Madrid  in  I believe,  for  the  first  time  in  1707. 
1652.  Whether  there  is  any  edition 


Chap.  XXXIV] 


ESTEVANILLO  GONZALEZ. 


75 


intolerable  puns.  But  it  shows  distinctly,  Avhat  we 
have  already  noticed,  that  the  whole  class  of  fictions  to 
which  it  belongs  had  its  foundation  in  the  manners  and 
society  of  Spain  at  the  period  when  they  appeared,  and 
that  to  this  they  owed,  not  only  their  success  at  home, 
in  the  age  of  Philip  the  Third  and  Philip  the  Fourth, 
but  that  success  abroad  which  subsequently  produced 
the  Gil  Bias  of  Le  Sage,  — an  imitation  more  brilliant 
than  any  of  the  originals  it  followed. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


Serious  and  Historical  Romances. — Juan  de  Flores,  Reinoso,  Lu- 
ziNDARO,  Contreras,  Hita  and  the  Wars  of  Granada,  Flegetonte, 
Noydens,  Ci:spEDES,  Cervantes,  Lamarca,  Valladares,  Texada,  Lo- 
zano.— Failure  of  this  Form  of  Fiction  in  Spain. 


It  was  inevitable  that  grave  fiction  suited  to  the 
changed  times  should  appear  in  Spain,  as  well  as  fic- 
tion founded  on  the  satire  of  prevalent  manners.  But 
there  were  obstacles  in  its  way,  and  it  came  late.  The 
old  chronicles,  so  full  of  the  same  romantic  spirit,  and 
the  more  interesting  because  they  were  sometimes  built 
up  out  of  the  older  and  longer-loved  ballads ; the  old 
ballads  themselves,  still  oftener  made  out  of  the  chroni- 
cles ; the  romances  of  chivalry,  which  had  not  yet  lost 
a popularity  that,  at  the  present  day,  seems  nearly  in- 
credible ; — all  contributed,  in  their  respective  propor- 
tions, to  satisfy  the  demand  for  books  of  amusement, 
and  to  repress  the  appearance  and  limit  the  success  of 
serious  and  historical  fiction.  But  it  was  inevitable 
that  it  should  come,  even  if  it  should  Avin  little  favor. 

We  have  already  noticed  the  attempts  to  mtroduce  it, 
made  in  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  by  Diego 
de  San  Pedro  and  his  imitator,  the  anonymous  author 
of  “ The  Question  of  Love.”  Others  followed,  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  The  story,  that  very  im- 
perfectly connects  the  discussions  between  Aurelio  and 
Isabella,  on  the  inquiry,  Avhether  man  gives  more  occa- 
sion for  sin  to  woman,  or  Avoman  to  man,  is  one  of 


Chap.  XXXV.]  VARIOUS  GRAVE  ROMANCES. 


77 


them.  It  is  a slight  and  meagre  fiction,  by  Juan  de 
Flores,  wliich  dates  as  far  back  as  1521,  and  which,  in 
an  early  English  translation,  was  at  one  time  thought 
to  have  furnished  hints  for  Shakspeare’s  “ Tempest.”  ^ 
“The  Loves  of  Clareo  and  Florisea,”  published  in  1552, 
by  Nunez  de  Keinoso,  at  Venice,  where  he  then  lived, 
is  another ; — a fiction  partly  allegorical,  partly  senti- 
mental, and  partly  in  the  manner  of  the  romances  of 
chivalry,  but  of  no  value  for  the  invention  of  its  inci- 
dents, and  of  very  little  for  its  style.^  The  story  of 
“Luzindaro  and  Medusina,”  printed  as  early  as  1553, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  enchantments  and  allegories,  pre- 
serves the  tone  and  air  of  a series  of  complaints  against 
love,  and  ends  tragically  with  the  death  of  Luzindaro, 
is  yet  a third  of  these  crude  attempts ; ^ — all  of  which 
are  of  consequence  only  because  they  led  the  way  to 
better  things.  But  excepting  these  and  two  or  three 
more  trifies  of  the  same  kind,  and  of  even  less  value, 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  so  far  as  grave  fiction 
was  concerned,  was  entirely  given  up  to  the  romances 
of  chivalry.^ 

In  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Second,  when  the  litera- 
ture of  the  country  began  to  develop  itself  on  all  sides, 
serious  romances  appeared  in  better  forms,  or  at  least 


^ I know  only  the  edition  of  Ant- 
werp, 1556,  12mo,  but  there  are  sev- 
eral others.  Lowndes,  Bib.  Manual, 
Article  Aurelio,  and  Malone’s  Shak- 
speare,  by  Boswell,  Vol.  XV. 

2 “ Historia  de  los  Amores  de  Clareo 
y Florisea,  por  Alonso  Nunez  de  Rei- 
noso,”  Venecia,  1552,  reprinted  in  the 
third  volume  of  Aribiau’s  Biblioteca, 
1846.  The  author  is  said  by  Antonio 
to  have  been  a native  of  Guadalaxara, 
and,  from  his  poems,  published  at  the 
same  time  with  his  story,  and  of  no 
value,  he  seems  to  have  led  an  unhap- 
py life,  divided  between  the  law,  for 


which  he  felt  he  had  no  vocation,  and 
arms,  in  which  lie  had  no  success. 

3 It  claims  to  be  “ sacado  del  estilo 
Griego,”  and  in  this  imitates  one  of 
the  common  fictions  in  the  title-pages 
of  the  romances  of  chivalry.  There 
are  several  editions  of  it,  — one  at 
Venice,  1553,  12mo,  which  is  in  my 
library,  entitled  “ Quexa  y Aviso  de 
un  Cavallero  llamado  Luzindaro.” 

Historia  de  la  Reyna  Sevilla, 
1532,  and  1551  ; — and  Libro  de  los 
Honestos  Amores  de  Peregrine  y de 
Jinebra,  1548. 

G* 


78 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


with  higher  pretensions  and  attributes.  Two  instances 
of  attempts  in  neAV  directions,  and  with  more  consider- 
able success,  present  themselves  at  once. 

The  first  was  by  Hieronimo  de  Contreras,  and  bears 
the  affected  title  of  “ A Thicket  of  Adventures.”  It  was 
published  in  1573,  and  is  the  story  of  Luzuman,  a gen- 
tleman of  Seville,  who  had  been  bred  from  childhood  in 
great  intimacy  with  Arboleda,  a lady  of  equal  condition 
with  himself ; but  when,  as  he  grows  up,  this  intimacy 
ripens  into  love,  the  lady  rejects  his  suit,  on  the  ground 
that  she  prefers  a religious  life.  The  refusal  is  gentle 
and  tender;  but  he  is  so  disheartened  by  it,  that  he 
secretly  leaves  his  home  in  sorrow  and  mortification,  and 
goes  to  Italy,  where  he  meets  with  abundance  of  adven- 
tures, and  travels  through  the  whole  peninsula,  down  to 
Naples.  Wearied  with  this  mode  of  life,  he  then  em- 
barks for  Spain,  but  on  his  passage  is  taken  by  a corsair 
and  carried  to  Algiers.  There  he  remains  in  cruel  slav- 
ery for  five  years.  His  master  then  gives  him  his  free- 
dom, and  he  returns  to  his  home  as  secretly  as  he  left 
it;  but  finding  that  Arboleda  had  taken  the  veil,  and 
that  the  society  to  which  he  belonged  had  forgotten 
him,  and  had  closed  over  the  place  he  had  once  filled, 
he  avoids  making  himself  known  to  any  body,  and 
retires  to  a hermitage,  with  the  purpose  of  ending  his 
days  in  devotion.® 

The  whole  story,  somewhat  solemnly  divided  into 
seven  books,  is  dull,  from  want  both  of  sufficient  variety 

5 The  “ Selva  de  Aventuras  ” was  Selva  was  translated  into  French  by 
printed  at  Salamanca,  in  1573,  12mo,  G.  Chapuys,  and  printed  in  1580. 
and  probably  earlier,  besides  which  (Bibliotheque  de  Duverdier,  Tom. 
there  are  subsequent  editions  of  Bar-  IV.  p.  221.)  Contreras  wrote,  also, 
celona,  Saragossa,  etc.  (Antonio,  Bib.  a volume  of  allegories  in  prose  and 
Nova,  Tom.  I.  p.  572)  ; but  it  is  in  verse,  (Dechado  de  Varies  Subjetos, 
the  Index  Expurgatorius  of  1667,  p.  Zaragoza,  1572,  and  Alcala,  1581, 
529.  Philip  II.,  in  the  Licencia,  calls  12mo,)  which  is  very  formal  and  dull. 
Contreras  “ nuestro  cronista.”  The 


Chap.  XXXV.]  GUERRAS  CIVILES  DE  GRANADA.  79 

in  the  details,  and  of  sufficient  spirit  in  the  style.  But  it 
is  of  some  importance,  because  it  is  the  first  in  a class 
of  fictions,  afterwards  numerous,  which — relying  on  the 
curiosity  then  felt  in  Spain  about  Italy,  as  a country 
full  of  Spaniards  enjoying  luxuries  and  refinements  not 
yet  known  at  home,  and  about  Algiers,  crowded  with 
thousands  of  other  Spaniards  suffering  the  most  severe 
forms  of  captivity  — trusted,  for  no  small  part  of  their 
interest,  to  the  accounts  they  gave  of  their  heroes  as  ad- 
venturers in  Italy,  and  as  slaves  on  the  coast  of  Barbary. 
Lope  de  Vega,  Cervantes,  and  several  more  among  the 
most  popular  authors  of  the  seventeenth  century,  are 
among  the  Avriters  of  fictions  like  these. 

The  other  form  of  graA’e  fiction,  which  appeared  in 
the  time  of  Philip  the  Second,  Avas  the  proper  historical 
romance;  and  the  earliest  specimen  of  it,  except  such 
unsuccessful  and  slight  attempts  as  Ave  have  already 
noticed,  is  to  be  found  in  “ The  Cml  Wars  of  Granada,” 
by  Gines  Perez  de  Hita.  The  author  of  this  striking 
book  Avas  an  inhabitant  of  Murcia,  and,  from  the  little 
he  tells  us  of  himself,  must  not  only  have  been  familiar 
Avith  the  Avild  mountains  and  rich  valleys  of  the  neigh- 
bouring kingdom  of  Granada,  but  must  have  had  an 
intimate  personal  acquaintance  Avith  many  of  the  old 
Moorish  families  that  still  lingered  in  the  homes  of 
their  fathers,  repeating  the  traditions  of  their  ancient 
glory  and  its  disastrous  overthroAV.  Perhaps  these  cir- 
cumstances led  him  to  the  choice  of  a subject  for  his 
romance.  Certainly  they  furnished  him  Avith  its  best 
materials ; for  the  story  he  relates  is  founded  on  the  fall 
of  Granada,  regarded  rather  from  Avithin,  amidst  the 
feuds  of  the  Moors  themselves,  than,  as  Ave  are  accus- 
tomed to  consider  it,  from  the  Christian  portion  of 
Spain,  gradually  gathered  in  military  array  outside  of 
its  walls. 


80 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


He  begins  his  story  by  seeking  a safe  basis  for  it  in 
the  origin  and  history  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  ac- 
cording to  the  best  authorities  within  his  reach.  This 
part  of  his  work  is  formal  and  dry,  and  shows  how 
imperfect  were  the  notions,  at  the  time  he  lived,  of 
what  an  historical  romance  sliould  be.  But  as  he  ad- 
vances and  enters  upon  the  main  subject  he  had  pro- 
posed to  himself,  his  tone  changes.  We  are,  indeed, 
still  surrounded  with  personages  that  are  familiar  to  us, 
like  the  heroic  Muza  on  one  side  and  the  Master  of 
Calatrava  on  the  other;  Ave  are  present  with  Boabdil, 
the  last  of  the  long  line  of  Moorish  sovereigns,  as  he 
carries  on  a fierce  war  against  his  own  father  in  the 
midst  of  the  city,  and  with  Ferdinand  and  his  knights, 
as  they  lay  waste  all  the  kingdom  without.  But  to 
these  historical  figures  are  added  the  more  imaginative 
and  fabulous  sketches  of  the  Zegris  and  Abencerrages, 
Beduan,  Abenamar,  and  Gazul,  as  full  of  knightly  vir- 
tues as  any  of  the  Christian  cavaliers  opposed  to  them ; 
and  of  Haja,  Zayda,  and  Fatima,  as  fair  and  rvinning 
as  the  dames  whom  Isabella  had  brought  with  her  to 
Santa  Fe  to  cheer  on  the  conquest. 

But  Avhile  he  is  thus  mingling  the  creations  of  his 
OAvn  fancy  with  the  facts  of  history,  Hita  has  been  par- 
ticularly skilful  in  giving  to  the  whole  the  manners  and 
coloring  of  the  time.  He  shows  us  a luxurious  empire 
tottering  to  its  fall,  and  yet,  while  the  streets  of  its  cap- 
ital are  filled  with  war-cries  and  blood,  its  princes  and 
nobles  abate  not  one  jot  of  their  accustomed  revelry 
and  riot.  Marriage  festivals  and  midnight  dances  in 
the  Alhambra,  and  gorgeous  tournaments  and  games 
in  presence  of  the  court,  alternate  with  duels  and  feuds 
between  the  tAVO  great  preponderating  families  that  are 
destroying  the  state,  and  Avith  skirmishes  and  single 


Chap.  XXXV.]  GUERRAS  CIVILES  DE  GRANADA.  81 

combats  against  the  advancing  Christians.  Then  come 
the  cruel  accusation  of  the  Sultana  by  the  false  Zegris, 
and  her  defence  in  arms  by  both  Moors  and  Chris- 
tians ; the  atrocious  murder  of  his  sister  Morayma  by 
Boabdil,  who  suddenly  breaks  out  with  all  the  jealous 
^iolence  of  an  Oriental  despot ; and  the  mournful  and 
scandalous  spectacle  of  three  kings  contending  daily  for 
empii’e  in  the  squares  and  palaces  of  a city  destined 
in  a few  short  weeks  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  that  already  surrounded  its  walls. 

Much  of  this,  of  course,  is  fiction,  so  far  as  the  details 
are  concerned ; but  it  is  not  a fiction  false  to  the  spirit 
of  the  real  events  on  which  it  is  founded.  MTien, 
therefore,  we  approach  the  end  of  the  story,  we  come 
again  -without  violence  upon  historical  ground  as  true 
as  that  on  which  it  opened,  though  almost  as  wild  and 
romantic  as  any  of  the  tales  of  feuds  or  festivals  through 
which  we  have  been  led  to  it.  In  this  way,  the  tem- 
porary captivity  of  Boabdil  and  his  cowardly  submis- 
sion, the  siege  and  surrender  of  Albania  and  Malaga, 
and  the  fall  of  Granada,  are  brought  before  us  neither 
unexpectedly  nor  in  a manner  out  of  keepmg  with 
what  had  preceded  them ; and  the  story  ends,  if  not 
ivith  a regular  catastrophe,  which  such  materials  might 
easily  have  furnished,  at  least  with  a tale  in  the  tone  of 
all  the  rest, — that  which  records  the  sad  fate  of  Don 
Alonso  de  Aguilar.  It  should  be  added,  that  not  a 
few  of  the  finest  of  the  old  Spanish  ballads  are  scat- 
tered through  the  work,  furnishing  materials  for  the 
story,  rich  and  appropriate  in  themselves,  and  giving 
an  air  of  reality  to  the  events  described,  that  could 
hardly  have  been  given  to  them  by  any  thing  else. 

This  first  part,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  of  the 
11 


VOL.  III. 


82 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


Wars  of  Granada  was  written  between  1589  and  1595.® 
It  claims  to  be  a translation  from  the  Arabic  of  a Moor 
of  Granada,  and,  in  the  last  chapter,  Hita  gives  a cir- 
cumstantial account  of  the  way  in  which  he  obtained 
it  from  Africa,  where,  as  he  would  have  us  believe,  it 
had  been  carried  in  the  dispersion  of  the  Moorish  race. 
But  though  it  is  not  unlikely,  that,  in  his  wanderings 
through  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  he  may  have  ob- 
tained Arabic  materials  for  parts  of  his  story,  and 
though,  in  the  last  century,  it  was  more  than  once 
attempted  to  make  out  an  Arabic  origin  for  the  whole 
of  it,’^  stdl  his  account,  upon  the  face  of  it,  is  not  at 
all  probable;  besides  which,  he  repeatedly  appeals  to 
the  chronicles  of  Garibay  and  Moncayo  as  authorities 
for  his  statements,  and  gives  to  the  main  current  of  his 
work  — especially  in  such  passages  as  the  conversion 
of  the  Sultana  — a Christian  air,  which  does  not  per- 
mit us  to  suppose  that  any  but  a Christian  could  have 
written  it.  Notwithstanding  his  denial,  therefore,  we 
must  give  to  Hita  the  honor  of  being  the  true  author 
of  one  of  the  most  attractive  books  in  the  prose  ht- 
erature  of  Spain ; a book  written  in  a pure,  rich. 


6 The  Chronicle  of  Pedro  de  Mon- 
cayo, published  in  1589,  is  cited  in 
Chap.  XII.,  and  the  first  edition  of 
the  first  part  of  the  Guerras  Civi- 
les,  as  is  well  known,  appeared  at 
Saragossa  in  1595,  12mo.  This  part 
was  reprinted  much  oftener  than  the 
second.  There  are  editions  of  it  iR 
1598,  1603,  1604  (three),  1606,  1610, 
1613,  1616,  etc.,  besides  several  with- 
out date. 

Bertuch,  Magazin  der  Spanischen 
und  Portugiesischen  Literatur,  Tom. 
I.,  1781,  pp.  275-280,  with  the  ex- 
tract there  from  “ Carter's  Travels.” 
A suggestion  recently  reported — not, 
however,  without  expressing  doubts 
of  its  accuracy  — by  Count  Albert  de 


Circourt,  in  his  curious  and  important 
“ Histoire  des  Arabes  d’Espagne,” 
(Paris,  1846,  8vo,  Tom.  III.  p.  346,) 
that  Don  Pascual  de  Gayangos,  of  Ma- 
drid, has  in  his  possession  the  Arabic 
original  of  the  Guerras  de  Granada, 
is  equally  unfounded.  From  Don 
Pascual  himself,  I learn  that  the 
MS.  referred  to  is  one  obtained  by 
him  in  London,  where  it  had  been 
carried  from  Madrid  as  a part  of  Con- 
de’s  collection,  and  that  it  is  mere- 
ly an  ill-made  translation,  or  rather 
abridgment,  of  the  romance  of  Hita  ; 
— probably  the  work  of  some  Moris- 
co  Spaniard,  not  thoroughly  acquaint- 
ed with  his  own  language. 


Chap.  XXXV.]  GUERRAS  CIVILES  DE  GRANADA. 


83 


and  picturesque  style,  which  seems  in  some  respects 
to  be  in  advance  of  the  age,  and  in  all  to  be  worthy 
of  the  best  models  of  the  best  period. 

In  1604,  he  published  the  second  part,  on  a subject 
nearly  connected  with  the  first.  Seventy-seven  years 
after  the  conquest  of  Granada,  the  Moors  of  that  king- 
dom, unable  any  longer  to  bear  the  oppressions  to 
which  they  were  subjected  by  the  rigorous  government 
of  Philip  the  Second,  took  refuge  in  the  bold  range  of 
the  Alpuxarras,  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  and 
there,  electing  a king,  broke  out  into  open  rebellion. 
They  maintained  themselves  bravely  in  their  mountain 
fastnesses  nearly  four  years,  and  were  not  finally  de- 
feated till  three  armies  had  been  sent  against  them; 
the  last  of  which  was  commanded  by  no  less  a general 
than  Don  John  of  Austria.  Hita  served  through  the 
whole  of  this  war ; and  the  second  part  of  his  romance 
contains  its  history.  Much  of  what  he  relates  is  true ; 
and,  indeed,  of  much  he  had  been  an  eye-witness,  as  we 
can  see  in  his  accounts  of  the  atrocities  committed  in 
the  villages  of  Felix  and  Huescar,  as  well  as  in  all  the 
details  of  the  siege  of  Galera  and  the  death  and  funeral 
honors  of  Luis  de  Quijada.  But  other  portions,  like 
the  imprisonment  of  Albexari,  with  his  love  for  Al- 
manzora,  and  the  jealousies  and  conspiracy  of  Benal- 
guacd,  must  be  chiefly  or  wholly  drawn  from  his  own 
imagination.  The  most  interesting  part  is  the  story  of 
Tuzani,  which  he  relates  with  great  minuteness,  and 
which  he  declares  he  received  from  Tuzani  himself  and 
other  persons  concerned  in  it ; — a wild  tale  of  Oriental 
passion,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  Calderon  made  the 
subject  of  one  of  his  most  powerful  and  characteristic 
dramas. 

If  the  rest  of  the  second  division  of  Hita’s  romance 


84 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


had  been  like  this  story,  it  might  have  been  worthy  of 
the  first.  But  it  is  not.  The  ballads  with  which  it 
is  diversified,  and  which  are  probably  all  his  own,  are 
much  inferior  in  merit  to  the  older  ballads  he  had  in- 
serted before ; and  his  narrative  is  given  in  a much 
less  rich  and  glowing  style.  Perhaps  Hita  felt  the  want 
of  the  old  Moorish  traditions  that  had  before  inspired 
him,  or  perhaps  he  found  himself  awkwardly  constrain- 
ed when  dealing  with  facts  too  recent  and  notorious 
to  be  manageable  for  the  purposes  of  fiction.  But 
whatever  may  have  been  the  cause  of  its  inferiority,  the 
^fact  is  plain.  His  second  part,  regarded  as  genuine 
history,  is  not  to  be  compared  Avith  the  account  of  the 
same  events  by  Diego  de  Mendoza ; while,  regarded  as 
a romance,  he  had  already  far  surpassed  it  himself.® 
The  path,  however,  which  Hita  by  these  two  works 
had  opened  for  historical  fiction  amidst  the  old  tra- 
ditions and  picturesque  manners  of  the  Moors,  tempt- 
ing as  it  may  now  seem,  did  not,  in  his  time,  seem  so  to 
others.  His  own  romance,  it  is  true,  was  often  reprint- 
ed and  much  read.  But,  from  the  nature  of  his  sub- 
ject, he  showed  the  Moorish  chaiucter  on  its  favorable 
side,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  express  his  horror  at 
the  cruelties  inflicted  by  his  countrymen  on  their  hated 
enemies,  and  his  sense  of  the  injustice  done  to  the 
vanquished  by  the  ,bad  faith  that  kept  neither  the 
promises  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  nor  those  of  Don 
.John.®  Such  sympathy  Avith  the  infidel  enemy  that 
had  so  long  held  Spain  in  fee  Avas  not  according  to  the 
spirit  of  the  times.  Only  five  years  after  Hita  had 

8 The  second  part  appeared  for  the  drid,  1833,  2 tom.  12mo,  and  both  are 
first  time  at  Alcala,  in  1604,  but  has  in  the  third  volume  of  Aribau’s  Bib- 
been  reprinted  so  rarely  since,  that  old  lioteca,  1846. 
copies  of  it  are  very  scarce.  There  9 Parte  I.  c.  18,  Parte  11.  c.  25. 
is  a neat  edition  of  both  parts,  Ma- 


Chap.  XXXV.]  GUERRAS  CIVILES  DE  GRANADA. 


85 


published  his  account  of  the  rebellion  of  the  Alpuxar- 
ras,  the  remainder  of  the  Moors  against  whom  he  had 
there  fought  were  violently  expelled  from  Spain  by 
Philip  the  Third,  amidst  the  rejoicings  of  the  whole 
Spanish  people ; few  even  of  the  most  humane  spirits 
looking  upon  the  sufferings  they  thus  inflicted  as  any 
thing  but  the  just  retributions  of  an  offended  Heaven. 

Of  course,  while  this  was  the  state  of  feeling  through- 
out the  nation,  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  works  of 
fiction  representing  the  Moors  in  romantic  and  attrac- 
tive colors,  and  filled  with  adventures  drawn  from  their 
traditions,  should  find  favor  in  Spain.  A century  later, 
indeed,  a third  part  of  the  Wars  of  Granada — wheth- 
er written  by  Hita  or  somebody  else  we  are  not  told  — 
was  licensed  for  the  press,  though  never  published ; 
and,  in  France,  Madame  de  Scuderi  soon  began,  in 
“ The  Almahide,”  a series  of  fictions  on  this  foundation, 
that  has  been  continued  down,  through  the  “Gonsalve 
de  Cordoue”  of  Florian,  to  “ The  Abencerrage  ” of  Cha- 
teaubriand, without  giving  any  token  that  it  is  likely 
soon  to  cease.“  But  in  Spain  it  struck  no  root,  and 
had  no  success. 

Perhaps  other  circumstances,  besides  a national  feel- 
ing of  unwillingness  that  romantic  fiction  should  occu- 
py the  debatable  ground  betAveen  the  Moors  and  the 
Christians,  contributed  to  check  its  progress  in  Spain. 


In  my  copy  of  the  second  part, 
printed  at  Madrid,  1731,  12mo,  the 
Aprobacion,  dated  10th  of  Septem- 
ber of  that  year,  speaks  distinctly  of 
three  parts,  mentioning  the  second  as 
the  one  that  was  printed  at  Alcala  in 
1604,  and  the  third  as  being  in  manu- 
script. I know  no  other  notice  of 
this  third  part.  Circourt  (Histoire 
des  Maures  Mudejares  et  des  Mo- 
resques) has  frequently  relied  on  the 


second  part  as  an  authority,  and,  in 
the  passage  just  cited,  gives  his  rea- 
sons for  the  confidence  he  reposes  in  it. 

Scott  is  reported  to  have  said, 
on  being  shown  the  Wars  of  Grana- 
da in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  that, 
if  he  had  earlier  known  of  the  book, 
he  might  have  placed  in  Spain  the 
scene  of  some  of  his  own  fictions. 
Denis,  Chroniques  Chevalresques,  Pa- 
ris, 1839,  8vo,  Tom.  I.  p.  323. 


H 


8C 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


Perhaps  the  publication  of  the  first  part  of  Don 
Quixote,  destroying,  by  its  ridicule,  the  only  form  of 
romance  much  known  or  regarded  at  the  time,  was  not 
without  an  efiect  on  the  other  forms,  by  exciting  a 
prejudice  against  all  grave  prose  works  of  invention, 
and  still  more  by  furnishing  a substitute  much  more 
amusing  than  they  could  aspire  to  be.  But  whether 
this  were  so  or  not,  attacks  on  all  of  them  followed  in 
the  same  spirit.  “ The  Cryselia  of  Lidaceli,”  which  ap- 
peared in  1609,  — and  which,  as  well  as  a dull  prose  sat- 
ire on  the  fantastic  Academies  then  in  fashion,  bears  the 
name  of  Captain  Flegetonte,  — assails  freely  whatever 
of  prose  fiction  had  till  then  enjoyed  regard  in  Spain, 
whether  the  pastoral,  the  historical,  or  the  chivali’ous.^" 
Its  attack,  however,  was  so  inefiectual,  as  to  show  only 
the  tendency  of  opinion  to  discourage  romance-writing 
in  Spain ; — a tendency  yet  more  apparent  a little  later, 
not  only  in  some  of  the  best  ascetic  writers  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  but  in  such  works  as  “ The  Moral 
History  of  the  God  Momus,”  by  Noydens,  published  in 
1666,  which,  as  its  author  tells  us  distmctly  in  the 
Prologue,  was  intended  to  drive  out  of  society  all  novels 
and  books  of  adventure  whose  subject  was  love.^^ 


12  “La  Cryselia  de  Lidaceli,  Fa- 
mosa  y Verdadera  Historia  de  Varies 
Acontecimientos  de  Amor  y Fortu- 
na,”  was  first  printed  at  Paris,  1609, 
12mo,  and  dedicated  to  the  Princess  of 
Conti ; besides  which  I have  seen  a 
third  edition,  of  Madrid,  1720.  At 
the  end  a second  part  is  announced, 
which  never  appeared.  The  other 
work  of  El  Capitan  Flegetonte  is  en- 
titled “ La  Famosa  y Temeraria  Com- 
pania  de  Rompe  Columnas,”  and  was 
also  printed  in  1609,  with  two  Dia- 
logues on  Love  ; all  as  poor  as  can 
well  1 3 imagined.  The  “Cryselia” 
is  a strange  confusion  of  the  pastoral 
sti  with  that  of  serious  romance  ; — 


the  whole  mingled  with  accounts  of 
giants  and  enchantments,  and  occa- 
sionally with  short  poems. 

13  Benito  Remigio  Noydens  was 
author  of  a number  of  moral  and  as- 
cetic works.  The  “ Historia  Moral 
del  Dios  Momo  ” (4to,  Madrid,  1666, 
12mo)  is  an  account  of  the  exile  of 
the  god  Momus  from  heaven,  and  his 
transmigration  through  the  bodies  of 
persons  in  all  conditions  on  earth, 
doing  mischief  wherever  he  goes. 
Each  chapter  of  the  eighteen  into 
which  it  is  divided  is  followed  by  a 
moralizing  illustration ; as,  for  in- 
stance, (c.  5,)  the  disturbance  Momus 
excites  on  earth  against  heaven  is  il- 


Chap.  XXXV.]  OTHER  SERIOUS  ROMANCES. 


87 


Still,  serious  romance  was  written  in  Spain  during  the 
whole  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  written  in  several 
varieties  of  form  and  tone,  though  "svith  no  real  success. 
Thus,  Gonzalo  de  Cespedes,  a native  of  Madrid,  and 
author  of  several  other  works,  published  the  first  part 
of  his  “Gerardo”  in  1615,  and  the  second  in  1617. 
He  calls  it  a Tragic  Poem,  and  divides  it  into  discourses 
instead  of  chapters.  But  it  is,  in  fact,  a prose  romance, 
consisting  of  a series  of  slightly  connected  adventures 
in  the  life  of  its  hero,  Gerardo,  and  episodes  of  the 
adventures  of  difierent  persons  more  or  less  associated 
with  him;  in  all  which,  amidst  much  that  is  senti- 
mental and  romantic,  there  is  more  that  is  tragic  than 
is  common  in  such  Spanish  stories.  It  was  several  times 
reprinted,  and  was  succeeded,  in  1626,  by  his  “ Various 
Fortunes  of  the  Soldier  Pindaro,”  a similar  work,  but 
less  interesting,  and  perhaps,  on  that  account,  never  fin- 
ished according  to  the  original  purpose  of  its  author. 
Both,  however,  show  a power  of  invention  which  is 
hardly  to  be  found  in  works  of  the  same  class  pro- 
duced so  early,  either  in  France  or  England,  and  both 
make  pretensions  to  style,  though  rather  in  their  light- 
er than  in  their  more  serious  portions.’"* 

Again  in  1617,  — the  same  year,  it  w'ill  be  recollected, 
in  which  the  “ Persiles  and  Sigismunda  ” of  Cervantes 
appeared,  — Francisco  Loubayssin  de  Lamarca,  a Bis- 
cayan by  birth,  published  his  “ Tragicomic  History  of 


lustrated  by  the  heresies  of  Germany 
and  England,  in  which  the  Duke  of 
Saxony  and  Henry  VIII.  appear  to 
very  little  advantage. 

i"!  “ Poema  Tragico  del  Espanol 
Gerardo  y Desengano  del  Amor  Las- 
civo  ” is  the  title  of  the  story ; and, 
besides  the  first  edition,  it  was  printed 
in  1617,  1618,  1623,  1625,  1654,  etc. 
The  “ Varia  Fortuna  del  Soldado 


Pindaro,”  who,  notwithstanding  his 
classical  name,  is  represented  as  a na- 
tive of  Castile,  was  less  favored.  I 
know  only  the  editions  of  1626  and 
1661,  till  we  come  to  that  of  Ma- 
drid, 1845,  8vo,  illustrated  with  much 
spirit.  Of  Cespedes  y Meneses  a 
slight  notice  is  to  be  found  in  Baena, 
Hijos  de  Madrid,  Tom.  II.  p.  362. 


88 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


Don  Enrique  de  Castro  ” ; in  Avhich  known  facts  and 
fanciful  adventures  are  mingled  in  the  wildest  confusion. 
The  scene  is  carried  hack,  by  means  of  the  story  of  the 
hero’s  uncle,  who  has  become  a hermit  in  his  old  age, 
to  the  Italian  wars  of  Charles  the  Eighth  of  France,  and 
forward,  in  the  person  of  the  hero  himself,  to  the  con- 
quest of  Chili  by  the  Spaniards ; covering  meanwhile 
any  intermediate  space  that  seems  convenient  to  its  au- 
thor’s purposes.  As  an  historical  novel,  it  is  an  entire 
failure.*® 

A similar  remark  may  he  made  on  another  work 
published  in  1625,  which  takes  m part  the  guise  of 
imaginary  travels,  and  is  called  “ The  History  of  Two 
Faithful  Friends  ” ; a story  founded  on  the  siqiposed 
adventures  of  a Frenchman  and  a Spaniard  in  Persia, 
and  consisting  chiefly  of  incredible  accounts  of  their 
intrigues  with  Persian  ladies  of  rank.  Much  of  it  is 
given  in  the  shape  of  a correspondence,  and  it  ends 
with  the  promise  of  a continuation,  which  never  ap- 
peared.*® 

Many,  indeed,  of  the  works  of  fiction  begun  hr  Spain, 
during  the  seventeenth  century,  remained,  like  the  Two 
Faithful  Friends,  unfinished,  from  want  of  encourage- 
ment and  popularity;  while  others  that  rvere  rvritten 
w'ere  never  published  at  all.**^  One  of  these  last,  called 
“The  Fortunate  Knight,”  by  Juan  Valladares  de  Val- 
delomar,  of  Cordova,  was  quite  prepared  for  the  press 
in  1617,  and  is  still  extant  in  the  original  manuscript, 

'5  The  “ Historia  Tragicomica  de  thor  of  this  foolish  fancy,  which  is, 
Don  Enrique  de  Castro  ” was  printed  perhaps,  a chronique  scandaleuse  of  the 
at  Paris,  in  1617,  when  its  author  was  court.  It  was  printed  at  Roussillon, 
twenty-nine  years  old.  Two  years  and  is  a small  18mo  volume, 
earlier  he  had  published  “ Enganos  The  names  of  a good  many  un- 

deste  Siglo.”  (Antonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  published  manuscripts  of  such  works 
Tom.  II.  p.  358.)  I believe  he  some-  can  be  found  in  the  Bibliotheca  of 
times  wrote  in  J'rench.  Antonio,  and  in  Baena,  “ Hijos  de 

16  I do  not  know  who  was  the  au-  Madrid.” 


Chap.  XXXV.]  EL  CABALLERO  VENTUROSO. 


89 


■with  the  proper  licenses  for  printing  and  the  autograph 
approbation  of  Lope  de  Vega.  It  is  an  historical  novel, 
dmded  into  forty-five  “ Adventures  ” ; and  the  hero,  like 
many  others  of  his  class,  is  a soldier  in  Italy,  and  a cap- 
tive in  Africa;  serving  first  under  Don  John  of  Austria, 
and  afterwards  under  Sebastian  of  Portugal.  How 
much  of  it  is  true  is  uncertain.  Pegular  dates  are  given 
for  many  of  its  events,  some  of  which  can  be  verified ; 
but  it  is  full  of  poetry  and  poetical  fancies,  and  several 
of  the  stories,  like  that  of  the  loves  of  the  knight  him- 
self and  the  fair  Mayorinda,  must  have  been  taken  from 
the  author’s  imagination.  Still,  in  the  Prologue,  all 
books  of  fiction  are  treated  with  contempt,  as  if  the 
whole  class  were  so  little  favored,  that  it  Avas  discredit- 
able to  avow  the  intention  of  publishing  another,  even 
at  the  moment  of  doing  it.  In  the  style  of  its  prose, 
the  Fortunate  Knight  is  as  good  as  other  similar  works 
of  the  same  period ; but  the  poems  Avith  Avhich  it  is 
croAAAed,  to  the  number  of  about  a hundred  and  fifty, 
are  of  less  merit.'® 

The  discouragement  just  alluded  to,  AAdiether  proceed- 
ing from  the  ridicule  throAvn  on  long  Avorks  of  fiction 
by  Cervantes,  or  from  the  Avatchfulness  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical authorities,  or  from  both  causes  combined,  Avas 
probably  one  of  the  reasons  that  led  persons  Avriting 
serious  romances  to  seek  neAV  directions  and  niiAvonted 
forms  in  their  composition ; sometimes  going  as  far  as 
possible  from  the  truth  of  fact,  and  sometimes  coming 
down  almost  to  plain  history.  Tavo  instances  of  such 
deAuations  from  the  beaten  paths  — probably  the  only 


The  MS.  of  “ El  Caballero  Ven-  the  University  of  Madrid,  and  fills 
turoso,”  which  is  evidently  autograph  289  closely  written  leaves,  in  4to.  A 
throughout,  belongs  to  Don  Pascual  second  part  is  announced,  but  was 
de  Gayangos,  Professor  of  Arabic  in  probably  never  written. 

VOL.  III.  12  11 


90  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

examples  in  their  time  of  the  class  to  which  each  be- 
longed — should  be  noticed,  for  their  singularity,  if  not 
for  their  literary  merit. 

The  first  is  by  Cosme  de  Texada,  and  is  called  “ The 
Marvellous  Lion.”  It  was  originally  published  in  1636, 
and  consists  of  the  history  of  “ the  great  Lion  Auri- 
crino,”  his  wonderful  adventures,  and,  at  last,  his  mar- 
riage with  Crisaura,  his  lady-love.  It  is  divided  into 
fifty-four  Apologues,  which  might  rather  have  been 
called  chapters  ; and  if,  instead  of  the  names  of  animals 
given  to  its  personages,  it  had  such  poetical  names  as 
usually  occur  in  romantic  fiction,  it  would  — except 
where  it  involves  satirical  sketches  of  the  follies  of  the 
times  — be  a mere  love-romance,  neither  more  unnat- 
ural nor  more  extravagant  than  many  of  its  fellows. 

Such  as  it  is,  however,  it  did  not  entirely  satisfy  its 
author.  The  early  portions  had  been  Avritten  in  his 
youth,  Avhile  he  was  a student  in  theology  at  Salaman- 
ca; and  when,  someivhat  later,  he  resumed  his  task, 
and  brought  it  to  a regular  conclusion,  he  was  already 
far  advanced  in  the  composition  of  another  romance  still 
more  grave  and  spiritualized  and  still  farther  removed 
from  the  realities  of  life.  This  more  carefully  matured 
fiction  is  called  “ Understanding  and  Truth,  the  Philo- 
sophical LoAm’s  ” ; and  all  its  personages  are  allegorical, 
filling  up,  Avith  their  dreams  and  trials,  a shadoAvy  pic- 
ture of  human  life,  from  the  creation  to  the  general 
judgment.  Hoav  long  Texada  Avas  employed  about  this 
cold  and  unsatisfactory  allegory,  Ave  are  not  told;  but 
it  Avas  not  published  till  1673,  nearly  forty  years  after 
it  Avas  begun,  and  then  it  Avas  given  to  the  public  by  his 
brother  as  a posthumous  Avork,  Avith  the  inappropriate 
title  of  “ The  Second  Part  of  the  Marvellous  Lion.” 
Neither  romance  had  a Imng  interest  capable  of  msur- 


Chap.  XXXV.]  LOS  REYES  NUEVOS  DE  TOLEDO. 


91 


ing  it  a permanent  success,  but  both  are  written  in  a 
purer  style  than  was  common  in  such  works  at  the 
same  period,  and  the  first  of  them  occasionally  attacks 
the  faults  of  the  contemporary  literature  with  spirit 
and  good-humor, 

Quite  difierent  from  both  of  them,  “ The  New  Kings 
of  Toledo,”  by  Christoval  Lozano,  introduces  only  real 
personages,  and  contains  little  but  the  facts  of  known 
history  and  old  tradition,  slightly  embellished  by  the 
spu'it  of  romance.  Its  author  was  attached  to  the  met- 
ropolitan cathedral  of  Toledo,  and,  with  Calderon,  serv- 
ed in  the  chapel  set  apart  for  the  burial  of  the  New 
Kings,  as  the  monarchs  of  Castile  were  called  from  the 
time  of  Henry  of  Trastamara,  who  there  established  for 
himself  a cemetery,  separate  from  that  in  which  the 
race  ending  with  the  dishonored  Hon  Pedro  had  been 
entombed. 

The  pious  chaplain,  who  was  thus  called  to  pray  daily 
for  the  souls  of  the  line  of  sovereigns  that  had  consti- 
tuted the  house  of  Trastamara,  determined  to  illustrate 
their  memories  by  a romantic  history;  and,  beginning 
with  the  old  national  traditions  of  the  origin  of  Tole- 
do, the  cave  of  Hercules,  the  marriage  of  Charlemagne 
with  a Moorish  princess  whom  he  converted,  and  the 
refusal  of  a Christian  prmcess  to  marry  a Moor  whom 
she  could  not  convert,  he  gives  us  an  account  of  the 
building  of  the  chapel,  and  the  adventures  of  the  kings 
who  sleep  under  its  altars,  down  as  late  as  the  death  of 


19  “ Leon  Prodigioso,  Apologia  Mo- 
ral, por  el  Licenciado  Cosme  Gomez 
Texada  de  los  Reyes,”  Madrid,  1670, 
4to  ; — “ Segunda  Parte  del  Leon 
Prodigioso,  Entendimiento  y Verdad, 
Amantes  Filosoficos,”  Alcala,  1673, 
4to.  The  first  part  was  licensed  in 
1634.  The  author  published  “ El 
Filosofo,”  a miscellany  on  the  physi- 


cal sciences  and  moral  philosophy,  in 
1650.  In  the  “ Leon  Prodigioso  ” is 
a good  deal  of  poetry  ; particularly,  in 
the  first  part,  a poem  called  “ La 
Nada,”  which  is  very  dull,  and  one  in 
the  second,  called  “ El  Todo,”  which 
is  still  worse.  His  ridicule  of  the 
culto  style,  in  Parte  1.  pp.  317,  391  - 
395,  is  acute  and  successful. 


92 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


Henry  the  Third,  in  1406.  From  internal  evidence,  it 
was  written  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fourth, 
when  Spanish  prose  had  lost  much  both  of  its  purity 
and  of  its  dignity ; but  Lozano,  though  not  free  from 
the  atfectations  of  his  age,  wrote  so  much  more  simply 
than  his  contemporaries  generally  did,  and  his  story, 
though  little  indebted  to  his  own  invention,  was  yet 
found  so  attractive,  that,  in  about  half  a century, 
eleven  editions  of  it  were  published,  and  it  obtained  for 
itself  a place  in  Spanish  literature  which  it  has  never 
entmely  lost.^° 

After  all,  however,  the  serious  and  historical  fictions 
produced  in  Spain,  that  merit  the  name  of  full-length 
romances,  were,  from  the  first,  few  in  number,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  Hita’s  “Civil  Wars  of  Granada,”  de- 
served little  favor.  Subsequent  to  the  reign  of  Philip 
the  Fourth,  they  almost  disappeared  for  above  a cen- 
tury; and  even  at  the  end  of  that  period,  they  oc- 
curred rarely,  and  obtained  little  regard.^* 


20  My  copy  is  of  the  eleventh  edi- 
tion, Madrid,  1734,  4to ; and  Lib.  III. 
c.  1,  p.  237,  was  written  just  at  the 
moment  of  the  accession  of  Charles  II. 
The  story  is  connected  with  the  favor- 
ite doctrine  of  the  Spanish  Church  : 
that  of  the  immaculate  conception, 
whose  annunciation  by  the  Madonna 
is  described  with  dramatic  effect  in 
Lib.  1.  c.  10.  The  earliest  edition  I 
have  seen  noticed  is  of  1667. 


21  The  only  grave  romance  of  this 
class,  after  1650,  that  needs,  I believe, 
to  be  referred  to,  is  “ La  Historia  de 
Lisseno  y Fenisa,  por  Francisco  Par- 
raga  Martel  de  la  Fuente,”  (Madrid, 
1701,  4to,) — a very  bad  imitation  of 
the  “Gerardo  Espaiiol  ” of  Cespedes 
y Meneses. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Tales. — Villegas,  Timoneda,  Cervantes,  Hidalgo,  Figueroa,  Barba- 
DiLLO,  Eslava,  Agreda,  Linan  y Verdugo,  Lope  de  Vega,  Salazar, 
Lugo,  Camerino,  Tellez,  Montalvan,  Reyes,  Peralta,’  Cespedes, 
Moya,  Anaya,  Mariana  de  Carbajal,  Maria  de  Zayas,  Mata,  Cas- 
tillo, Lozano,  Solorzano,  Alonso  de  Alcala,  Villalpando,  Prado, 
Robles,  Guevara,  Polo,  Garcia,  Santos.  — Great  Number  of 
Tales.  — General  Remarks  on  all  the  Forms  of  Spanish  Fiction. 


Short  stories  or  tales  were  more  successful  in  Spain, 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  the 
whole  of  the  seventeenth,  than  any  other  form  of  prose 
fiction,  and  were  produced  in  greater  numbers.  They 
seem,  indeed,  to  have  sprung  afresh,  and  with  great 
vigor,  from  the  prevailing  national  tastes  and  manners, 
not  at  all  connected  with  the  tales  of  Oriental  origin, 
that  had  been  introduced  above  two  hundred  years 
earlier  by  Don  Juan  Manuel,  and  little  affected  by  the 
brilliant  Italian  school,  of  which  Boccaccio  was  the 
head;  but  showing  rather,  in  the  hues  they  borrowed 
from  the  longer  contemporary  pastoral,  satirical,  and 
historical  romances,  how  truly  they  belonged  to  the 
spirit  of  their  own  times,  and  to  the  state  of  society 
in  which  they  appeared.  We  turn  to  them,  therefore, 
with  more  than  common  interest. 

The  oldest  Spanish  tales  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
that  deserve  to  be  noticed,  are  two  that  are  found  in 
a small  volume  of  the  works  of  Antonio  de  Villegas, 
somewhat  conceitedly  called  “El  Inventario,”  and  pre- 


94 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


pared  for  the  press  about  1550,  though  not  published 
till  1565.^  The  first  of  them  is  entitled  “Absence  and 
Solitude,”  a pastoral  consisting  of  about  equal  portions 
of  prose  and  poetry,  and  is  as  affected  and  ui  as  had  taste 
as  the  ampler  fictions  of  the  class  to  which  it  belongs. 
The  other  — “The  Story  of  Narvaez”  — is  much  bet- 
ter. It  is  the  Spanish  version  of  a romantic  adventure 
that  really  occurred  on  the  frontiers  of  Granada,  in 
the  days  when  knighthood  was  in  its  glory  among 
iNIoors  as  well  as  among  Christians.  Its  principal  in- 
cidents are  as  follows. 

Kodrigo  de  Narvaez,  Alcayde  of  Alora,  a fortress  on 
the  Spanish  border,  grows  weary  of  a life  of  inaction, 
from  which  he  had  been  for  some  time  suffering,  and 
goes  out  one  night  with  a few  followers,  in  mere  wan- 
tonness, to  seek  adventures.  Of  course  they  soon  find 
what,  in  such  a spirit,  they  seek.  Abindarraez,  a noble 
Moor,  belonging  to  the  persecuted  and  exiled  family 
of  the  Abencerrages,  comes  well  mounted  and  well  arm- 
ed along  the  path  they  are  watching,  and  sings  cheerily 
through  the  stillness  of  the  night,  — 

In  Granada  was  I born, 

In  Cartama  was  I bred  ; 

But  in  Coyn  by  Alora 

Lives  the  maiden  I would  wed. 

A fight  follows  at  once,  and  the  gallant  young  Moor 
is  taken  prisoner;  but  his  dejected  manner,  after  a 
resistance  so  brave  as  he  had  made,  surprises  his  con- 
queror, who,  on  inquiry,  finds  that  his  captive  was 
on  his  way  that  very  night  to  a secret  marriage  with 

1 The  “ Inventario  ” of  Villegas  author  is  supposed  to  have  been  a 
was  twice  printed,  the  first  edition  in  native,  and  both  times  with  a note 
4to,  1565,  and  the  second  in  small  especially  prefixed,  signifying  that  the 
12mo,  1577,  144  leaves;— both  times  first  license  to  print  it  was  granted  in 
at  Medina  del  Campo,  of  which  its  1551. 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


VILLEGAS. 


95 


the  lady  of  his  love,  daughter  of  the  lord  of  Coyn, 
a Moorish  fortress  near  at  hand.  Immediately  on  learn- 
ing this,  the  Spanish  knight,  like  a true  cavalier,  re- 
leases the  young  Moor  from  his  present  thraldom,  on 
condition  that  he  will  voluntarily  return  in  three  days 
and  submit  himself  again  to  his  fate.  The  noble  Moor 
keeps  his  word,  bringing  with  him  his  stolen  bride,  to 
whom,  by  the  intervention  of  the  generous  Spaniard 
with  the  king  of  Granada,  her  father  is  reconciled,  and 
so  the  tale  ends  to  the  honor  and  content  of  all  the 
parties  who  appear  in  it. 

Some  passages  in  it  are  beautiful,  like  the  first 
declaration  of  his  love  by  Abindarraez,  as  described 
by  himself;  and  the  darkness  that,  he  says,  fell  upon 
his  very  soul,  when  his  lady,  the  next  day,  was  carried 
away  by  her  father,  “ as  if,”  he  adds,  “ the  sun  had  been 
suddenly  eclipsed  over  a man  wandering  amidst  wild 
and  precipitous  mountains.”  His  Moorish  honor  and 
faith,  too,  are  characteristically  and  finely  expressed, 
when,  on  the  approach  of  the  time  for  his  return  to 
captivity,  he  reveals  to  his  bride  the  pledge  he  had 
given,  and  in  reply  to  her  urgent  offer  to  send  a rich 
ransom  and  break  his  word,  he  says,  “ Surely  I may 
not  noiv  fall  into  so  great  a fault ; for  if,  when  formerly 
I came  to  you  all  alone,  I kept  truly  my  pledged  faith, 
my  duty  to  keep  it  is  doubled  now  that  I am  yours. 
Therefore,  questionless,  I shall  return  to  Alora,  and 
place  myself  in  the  Alcayde’s  hands ; and  when  I have 
done  what  I ought  to  do,  he  must  also  do  what  to 
him  seems  right.” 

The  original  story,  as  told  by  the  Arabian  writers,  is 
found  at  the  end  of  “ The  History  of  the  Arabs  in 
Spain,”  by  Conde,  who  says  it  was  often  repeated  by 
the  poets  of  Granada.  But  it  was  too  attractive  in  it- 


96 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


self,  and  too  flattering  to  the  character  of  Spanish 
knighthood,  not  to  obtain  a similar  place  in  Spanish 
literature.  Montemayor,  therefore,  borrowing  it  with 
little  ceremony  from  Villegas,  and  altering  it  materi- 
ally for  the  worse  in  point  of  style,  mserted  it  in  the 
editions  of  his  “ Diana  ” published  towards  the  latter 
part  of  his  life,  though  it  harmonizes  not  at  all  with  the 
pastoral  scenery  which  there  surrounds  it.  Padilla,  too, 
soon  afterwards  took  possession  of  it,  and  wrought  it 
into  a series  of  ballads ; Lope  de  Vega  founded  on  it 
his  play  of  “ The  Pemedy  for  Misfortune  ” ; and  Cer- 
vantes introduced  it  into  his  “ Don  Quixote.”  On  all 
sides,  therefore,  traces  of  it  are  to  be  found,  but  it  no- 
where presents  itself  with  such  grace  or  to  such  advan- 
tage as  it  does  in  the  simple  tale  of  Villegas.^ 

Juan  de  Timoneda,  already  noticed  as  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  popular  theatre  in  Spain,  was  also  an 
early  Avriter  of  Spanish  tales.  Indeed,  as  a bookseller 


2 The  story  of  Narvaez,  who  is 
honorably  noticed  in  Pulgar’s  “Claros 
Varones,”  Titulo  XVII.,  and  who  is 
said  to  have  been  the  ancestor  of  Nar- 
vaez, the  minister  of  state  to  Isabella 
II.,  is  found  in  Argote  de  Molina 
(Nobleza,  1588,  f.  296)  ; in  Conde 
(Historia,  Tom.  III.  p.  262)  ; in  Vi- 
llegas (Inventario,  1565,  f.  94) ; in 
Padilla  (Romancero,  1583,  ff.  117- 
127) ; in  Lope  de  Vega  (Remedio  de 
laDesdicha;  Comedias,  Tom.  XIII., 
1620) ; in  Don  Quixote  (Parte  I.  c.  5), 
etc.  I think,  too,  that  it  may  have 
been  given  by  Timoneda,  under  the 
title  of  “ Historia  del  Enamorado  Mo- 
re Abindarraez,”  sine  anno,  (Fuster, 
Bib.,  Tom.  I.  p.  162,)  and  it  is  cer- 
tainly among  the  ballads  in  his  “ Rosa 
Espaiiola,”  1573.  (See  Wolf’s  re- 
print, 1846,  p.  107.)  It  is  the  sub- 
ject, also,  of  a long  poem  by  Francisco 
Balbi  de  Corregio,  1593.  (Depping’s 
Romancero,  Leipsique,  1844,  12mo, 
Tom.  II.  p.  231.)  That  Montemayor 
took  his  version  of  the  story  of  Nar- 


vaez from  Villegas  nobody  will  doubt 
who  compares  both  together  and  re- 
members that  it  does  not  appear  in 
the  first  edition  of  the  “ Diana  ” ; that 
it  is  wholly  unsuited  to  its  place  in 
such  a romance ; and  that  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  is  only  that 
the  story,  as  told  by  Montemayor,  in 
the  “ Diana,”  Book  IV.,  though  it  is 
often,  for  several  sentences  together, 
in  the  same  words  with  the  story  in 
Villegas,  is  made  a good  deal  longer 
by  mere  verbiage.  See,  ante,  Chap. 
XXXIII.,  note. 

In  the  “ Nobiliario  ” of  Ferant  de 
Mexia,  (Sevilla,  1492,  folio,) — a cu- 
rious book,  written  with  Castilian  dig- 
nity of  style,  and  full  of  the  feudal 
spirit  of  an  age  that  believed  in  the 
inherent  qualities  of  noble  blood,  — 
its  author  (Lib.  11.  c.  15)  boasts  that 
Narvaez  was  the  brother  of  his  grand- 
father, calling  him  “ cavallero  de  los 
bienaventurados  que  ovo  en  nuestros 
tiempos  desde  el  Cid  aca  batalloso  e 
victorioso.” 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


TIMONEDA. 


97 


who  sought  to  make  profit  of  whatever  was  agreeable 
to  the  general  taste,  and  who  wrote  and  published  in 
this  spirit  several  volumes  of  ballads,  miscellaneous 
poetry,  and  farces,  it  was  quite  natural  he  should  ad- 
venture in  the  ways  of  prose  fiction,  now  become  so  at- 
tractive. His  first  attempt  seems  to  have  been  in  his 
Patranuelo,”  or  Story-teller,  the  first  part  of  which 
appeared  in  1576,  but  was  not  continued.^ 

It  is  a small  work,  which  draws  its  materials  from 
widely  different  sources,  some  of  them  being  found,  like 
the  well-known  story  of  Apollonius,  Prince  of  Tyre,  in 
the  “ Gesta  Romanorum,”  and  some  in  the  Italian  mas- 
ters, like  the  story  of  Griselda  in  Boccaccio,  and  the  one 
familiar  to  English  readers  m the  ballad  of  “ King 
John  and  the  Abbot  of  Canterbury,”  which  Timoneda 
probably  took  from  Sacchetti.^  Three  or  four  — of 
which  the  first  in  the  volume  is  one — had  already  been 
used  in  the  construction  of  dramas  by  Alonso  de  la 


3 Rodriffuez,  Biblioteca,  p.  283. 
Ximeno,  Bib.,  Tom.  I.  p.  72.  Fus- 
ter,  Bib.,  Tom.  I.  p.  101,  Tom.  II. 
p.  530.  The  “ Sobremesa  y Alivio 
lie  Caminantes,”  by  Timoneda,  print- 
ed in  1569,  and  probably  earlier,  is 
merely  a collection  of  a hundred  and 
sixty-one  anecdotes  and  jests,  in  the 
manner  of  Joe  Miller,  though  some- 
times cited  as  a collection  of  tales. 
They  are  preceded  by  twelve  similar 
anecdotes,  by  a person  who  is  called 
Juan  Aragones.  In  all  the  editions 
of  the  “Patranuelo,”  I believe,  ex- 
cept the  first  and  that  in  Aribau’s 
Biblioteca,  there  are  only  twenty-one 
tales  ; — the  eighth,  which  is  a coarse 
one  borrowed  from  Ariosto,  being 
omitted. 

4 The  story  of  Apollonius, — the 
same  with  that  in  Shakspeare’s  “ Per- 
icles,”— was,  aswe  have  seen,  (Vol.  I. 
p.  24,)  known  in  Spanish  poetry  very 
early,  though  the  old  poetical  version 
of  it  was  not  printed  till  1844 ; but 

VOL.  III.  13 


it  is  more  likely  to  have  been  taken 
by  Timoneda  from  the  “ Gesta  Roma- 
norum,”  Tale  153,  in  the  edition  of 
1488.  The  story  of  Griselda  he,  no 
doubt,  took  from  the  version  of  it 
with  which  the  “ Decamerone  ” ends, 
though  he  may  have  obtained  it  else- 
where. (Manni,  Istoria  del  Decame- 
rone, Firenze,  1742,  4to,  p.  603.)  As 
to  the  story  so  familiar  to  us  in  Percy’s 
“ Reliques,”  he  probably  obtained  it 
from  the  fourth  Novella  of  Sacchetti, 
written  about  1370 ; beyond  which  1 
think  it  cannot  be  traced,  though  it 
has  been  common  enough  ever  since, 
down  to  Burger's  version  of  it.  Sim- 
ilar inquiries  would  no  doubt  lead  to 
similar  results  about  other  tales  in  the 
“Patranuelo”;  but  these  instances 
are  enough  to  show  that  Timoneda 
took  any  thing  he  found  suited  to  his 
purpose,  just  as  the  Italian  Novellieri 
and  the  French  Trouveurs  had  done 
before  him,  without  inquiring  or  caring 
whence  it  came. 


I 


98 


HISTORY  OF  SPAMSII  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 


Vega  and  Lope  de  E-ueda.  All  of  them  tend  to  show, 
what  is  proved  in  other  ways,  that  such  popular  stories 
had  long  been  a part  of  the  intellectual  amusements  of 
a state  of  society  little  dependent  on  books ; and,  after 
floating  for  centuries  up  and  down  through  the  differ- 
ent countries  of  Europe,  — borne  by  a general  tradition 
or  by  the  minstrels  and  Trouveurs,  — were  about  this 
period  first  reduced  to  writing,  and  then  again  passed 
onward  from  hand  to  hand,  till  they  were  embodied  in 
some  form  that  became  permanent.  What,  therefore,  the 
Novellieri  had  been  doing  in  Italy  for  above  two  hun- 
dred years,  Timoneda  now  undertook  to  do  for  Spain. 
The  twenty-two  tales  of  his  “ Patranuelo  ” are  not,  in- 
deed, connected,  like  those  of  the  “ Decamerone,”  but 
he  has  given  them  a uniform  character  by  investing 
them  all  Avith  his  own  easy,  if  not  very  pure,  style  ; 
and  thus,  without  anticipating  it,  sent  them  out  anew 
to  constitute  a part  of  the  settled  literature  of  his  coun- 
try, and  to  draAV  after  them  a long  train  of  similar  fic- 
tions, some  of  Avhich  bear  the  most  eminent  names 
known  among  those  of  Spanish  prose-Avriters. 

Indeed,  the  very  next  is  of  this  high  order.  It  is 
that  of  Cervantes,  Avho  began  by  inserting  such  stories 
in  the  first  part  of  his  “Don  Quixote”  in  1605,  and, 
eight  years  later,  produced  a collection  of  them,  Avhich 
he  published  separately.  Of  these  tales,  hoAA-ever,  Ave 
have  already  spoken,  and  Avill,  therefore,  noAV  only  re- 
peat, that,  for  originality  of  invention  and  happiness  of 
style,  they  stand  at  the  head  of  the  class  to  Avhich  they 
belong.’^ 

Others  folloAved,  of  very  various  character.  Hidalgo 
published,  in  1605,  an  account  of  the  frolics  permitted 


5 See,  ante,  Vol.  II.  p.  84. 


Chap.  XXXVI.]  FIGUEROA.  — SALAS  BARBADILLO.  99 

during  the  last  three  days  of  Carnival,  in  which  are 
many  short  tales  and  anecdotes,  like  the  slightest  and 
gayest  of  the  Italian  novelle and  Suarez  de  Figueroa, 
who  Avas  no  friend  of  Cervantes,  if  he  Avas  his  follower, 
inserted  other  tales  of  a more  romantic  tone  in  his 
“ TraA'eller,”  Avhich  he  published  in  1617.^  Perhaps, 
hoAveA’er,  no  Avriter  of  such  fictions  in  the  early  part  of 
the  seA^enteenth  century  had  more  success  than  Salas 
Barhadillo,  Avho  Avas  born  at  Madrid,  about  1580,  and 
died  in  1630.®  During  the  last  eighteen  years  of  his 
life,  he  published  not  less  than  tAventy  different  AA'orks, 
all  of  Avhich,  except  three  or  four  that  are  filled  AA'itli 
such  dramas  and  poetry  as  Lope  de  Vega  had  made 
fashionable,  consist  of  popular  stories,  neither  so  short 
as  the  tales  of  Timoneda,  nor  long  enough  to  be  ac- 
counted regular  romances,  hut  all  Avritten  in  a truly 
national  spirit,  and  in  a strongly  marked  Castilian  style. 

“ The  Ingenious  Helen,  Daughter  of  Celestina,” 
Avhich  is  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  spirited  of  these 
fictions,  appeared  in  1612,  and  Avas  frequently  printed 
aftei'Avards.  It  is  the  story  of  a courtesan,  Avhose  ad- 


6 It  is  in  the  form  of  dialogues, 
and  called  “ Carnestolendas  de  Cas- 
tilla, dividido  en  las  tres  Noches  del 
Domingo,  Lunes  y Martes  de  Antru- 
exo,  poT  Gaspar  Lucas  Hidalgo,  Ve- 
zino  de  la  Villa  de  Madrid,”  Barce- 
lona, 1605,  12mo,  ff.  108.  Editions 
are  also  noted  of  1606  and  1618. 

“El  Pasagero  ” (Madrid,  1617, 
12mo,  IF.  492)  is  in  ten  dialogues,  car- 
ried on  in  the  pauses  or  rests  of  two 
travellers,  and  thence  affectedly  called 
Alivios.  I have  a small  volume  entitled 
“ Historia  de  los  Siete  Sabios  de  Ro- 
ma, compuesta  por  Marcos  Perez,  Bar- 
celona por  Rafael  Figuero,”  12mo,— - 
no  date ; but,  I think,  printed  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  It  contains  the 
story  of  “ The  Seven  AVise  Masters,” 
which  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  modern 
fictions,  — the  Emperor,  in  this  version 


of  it,  being  named  Ponciano,  and  being 
called  the  son  of  Diocletian.  The  style 
is  somewhat  better  than  that  of  the 
“ Donzella Teodor,”  [ante, 11.  212,)but 
seems  to  be  of  about  the  same  period. 

8 Notices  for  the  life  of  Barhadillo 
may  be  found  in  Baena  (Hijos  de 
Madrid,  Tom.  I.  p.  42)  ; in  Antonio 
(Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  28) ; and  in 
the  Prefaces  to  his  own  “ Estafeta  del 
Dios  Momo,”  (Madrid,  1627,  12mo.) 
and  his  “ Coronas  del  Parnaso  ” (Ma- 
drid, 1635, 12mo).  He  was  associated 
with  Cervantes  in  the  same  religious 
fraternity,  and  gave  his  strong  testi- 
mony in  favor  of  the  tales  of  his 
friend  in  their  first  edition.  (Navav- 
rete,  A'^ida,  121,  132.)  He  seems 
to  have  liad  an  office  at  court,  for  he 
calls  himself  “ Criado  de  su  Mages- 
tad.” 


100 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


ventures,  from  the  high  game  she  undertakes  to  play 
in  life,  are  of  the  boldest  and  most  desperate  kind.  She 
is  called  the  daughter  of  Celestina,  because  she  is  made 
to  deserve  that  name  by  her  talent  and  her  crimes ; but, 
with  instinctive  truth,  she  is  at  last  left  to  perish  by  the 
most  disgraceful  of  all  the  forms  of  a Spanish  execution, 
for  poisoning  an  obscure  and  vulgar  lover.  One  or 
two  minor  stories  are  rather  inartiticially  introduced  in 
the  course  of  the  main  narrative,  and  so  are  a few  bal- 
lads, which  have  no  value  except  as  they  serve  to  illus- 
trate the  ruffian  life,  as  it  was  called,  then  to  be  found 
in  the  great  cities  of  Spain.  The  best  parts  of  the  book 
are  those  relating  to  Helen  herself  and  her  machina- 
tions ; and  the  most  striking  scenes,  and  perhaps  the 
most  true,  to  the  time,  are  those  that  occur  when  she 
rises  to  the  height  of  her  fortunes  by  setting  up  for  a 
saint  and  imposing  on  all  Seville.® 

Of  course,  with  such  materials  and  incidents,  the 
Helena  takes  much  of  its  tone  from  the  stories  in  the 
ffusto  picaresco,  or  the  style  of  Spanish  rogues.  Quite 
opposite  to  it,  therefore,  in  character  and  purpose,  is 
“ The  Perfect  Knight,”  — a philosophical  tale,  not  with- 
out some  touch  of  the  romances  of  chivalry.  It  is  ad- 
dressed to  all  the  noble  youth  of  the  realm,  at  a time 
when  the  Cortes  were  assembled,  and  is  intended  to  sei- 
the  ideal  of  true  knighthood  before  them,  as  before  an 
audience  the  younger  part  of  which  might  be  excited  to 
strive  after  its  attributes  and  honors.  To  accomplish 
this,  Barbadillo  gives  the  history  of  a Spanish  cavalier, 
who,  travelling  to  Italy  during  the  reign  of  Alfonso  of 
Aragon,  the  conqueror  of  Naples,  obtains  the  favor  of 
that  monarch,  and,  after  serving  him  in  the  highest  mil- 

9 “ La  Ingeniosa  Helena,  Hija  de  since.  The  edition  I have  is  of  Ma- 
Celestina,”  Lerida,  1612,  and  often  drid,  1737,  12mo. 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


SALAS  BARBADILLO. 


101 


itary  and  diplomatic  posts,  — commanding  armies  in 
Germany,  and  mediating  between  imaginary  kings  of 
klngland  and  Ireland,  ~ retires  to  the  neighbourhood  of 
Baia  and  enjoys  a serene  and  religious  old  age.*° 

Again,  “ The  House  of  Respectable  Amusements  ” 
differs  from  both  of  the  preceding  fictions,  and  exhibits 
another  variety  of  their  author’s  very  flexible  talent.  It 
relates  the  frolics  of  four  gay  students  of  Salamanca, 
who,  Avearied  by  their  course  of  life  at  the  Uni\’ersity, 
come  to  Madrid,  open  a luxurious  house,  arrange  a 
large  hall  for  exhibitions,  and  in\ite  the  rank  and  fash- 
ion of  the  city,  telling  stories  for  the  amusement  of  their 
guests,  reciting  ballads,  and  acting  plays ; — all  of 
AA'liich  constitute  the  materials  that  fill  the  volume.  Six 
tales,  however,  are  really  the  effective  part  of  it ; and 
the  Avhole  is  abruptly  terminated  by  the  dangerous  ill- 
ness of  the  most  active  among  the  four  gay  cavaliers 
Avho  had  arranged  these  Lenten  entertainments.” 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  examine  further  the  light 
fictions  of  Barbadillo.  It  is  enough  to  say  of  the  rest, 
that  “ The  Point-DeA'ice  Knight,”  in  tAA'o  parts,  is  a gro- 
tesque story  in  ridicule  of  those  aaLo  pretend  to  be  first 
in  eA’ery  thing ; — that  “ The  Lucky  Fool  ” is  AA  hat  its 
name  implies ; — that  “ Don  Diego  ” consists  of  the 
love-adventures,  during  nine  successKe  nights,  of  a gen- 


10  itgj  Caballero  Perfeto,”  Ma- 
drid, 1620,  12mo. 

“ Casa  del  Plazer  Honesto,” 
.Madrid,  1620,  12ino. 

12  ‘tgj  Caballero  Puntual,”  Pri- 
mera  Parte,  Madrid,  1614  ; Se^unda 
Parte,  Madrid,  1619,  12mo.  At  the 
end  of  the  second  part  is  a play, 
“ Los  Prodigios  de  Amor.”  A work 
not  entirely  unlike  the  “ Caballero 
Puntual  ” was  printed  at  Rouen  in 
1610,  12mo,  called  “ Rodomunta- 


das  Castellanas.”  It  is  in  Spanish, 
as  were  many  other  books  printed  at 
that  time  in  France,  from  the  connec- 
tion of  the  French  court  with  Spain, 
and  it  consists  of  the  incredible  boast- 
ings of  a braggadocio,  something  like 
Baron  Munchausen.  But  it  has  little 
value  of  any  sort,  and  I mention  it 
only  because  it  preceded  the  fiction  of 
Barbadillo  by  four  years. 

13  “ El  Necio  bien  Afortunado,” 
Madrid,  1621,  12mo. 

1* 


102 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


tleman  who  always  fails  in  what  he  undertakes ; — 
and  that  all  of  them,  and  all  Barbadillo’s  other  produc- 
tions, are  within  the  range  of  talent  of  not  a very  high 
order,  but  uncommonly  flexible,  and  dealing  rather  with 
the  surface  of  manners  than  Avith  the  secrets  of  charac- 
ter which  manners  serve  to  hide.  His  latest  Avork,  en- 
titled “ Parnassian  CroAvns  and  Dishes  for  the  Muses,” 
consists  of  a medley  of  verse  and  prose,  stories  and  dra- 
mas, which  Avere  arranged  for  the  press,  and  licensed  in 
October,  1630 ; but  he  died  immediately  afterwards,  and 
they  Avere  not  printed  till  1635.^^ 

During  the  life  of  Barbadillo,  and  probably  in  some 
degree  from  his  example  and  success,  such  fictions  be- 
came frequent.  “The  Winter  EA^enings  ” of  Antonio  de 
Eslava,  published  in  1609,  belong  to  this  class,  hut  are, 
indeed,  so  early  in  their  date,  that  they  may  have  rather 
given  an  impulse  to  Barbadillo  than  received  one  from 
hirn.^®  But  “ The  Twelve  Moral  Tales  ” of  Diego  de 
Agreda,  in  1620,  belong  clearly  to  his  manner,'^  as  does 
also  “ The  Guide  and  Counsel  for  Strangers  at  Court,” 


14  “Don  Diego  de  Noche,”  Ma- 
drid, 1623,  12mo.  All  nine  of  his 
unhappy  adventures  occur  in  the  night. 
For  some  reason,  I know  not  what,  this 
story  appears  among  the  translated 
works  of  Quevedo,  (Edinburgh,  1798, 
3 vols.  8vo,)  and,  I believe,  may  be 
found,  also,  in  the  previous  translation 
made  by  Stevens.  There  is  a play 
with  the  same  title,  “ Don  Diego  de 
Noche,”  by  Roxas  (in  Tom.  VII.  of 
the  Comedias  Escogidas,  1654) ; but 
it  has,  I think,  nothing  to  do  with  the 
tale  of  Barbadillo. 

15  “ Coronas  del  Parnaso  y Platos 
de  las  Musas,”  Madrid,  1635,  12mo. 
There  is  some  resemblance  in  the  idea 
to  that  of  the  “ Convito  ” of  Dante; 
but  it  is  not  likely  that  Salas  Barba- 
dillo imitated  the  philosophical  alle- 
gory of  the  great  Italian  master. 

15  The  “ Primera  Parte  de  las  No- 
ches  de  Invierno,  por  Antonio  de  Es- 


lava,” was  printed  at  Pamplona  in 
1609,  and  at  Brussels  in  1610,  12mo  ; 
but,  as  was  so  common  in  these  works 
of  amusement,  I believe  no  second 
part  followed.  It  is  ordered  to  be  ex- 
purgated in  the  Index  of  1667,  p.  67. 

11  “ Doce  Novelas  Morales  y Ex- 
emplares,  por  Diego  de  Agreda  y Var- 
gas,” Madrid,  1620  ; reprinted  by  one 
of  his  descendants,  at  Madrid,  in  1724, 
12mo.  Diego  de  Agreda,  of  whom 
there  is  a notice  in  Baena,  (Tom.  I. 
p.  331,)  was  a soldier  as  well  as  an 
author,  and,  in  the  tale  he  called  “ El 
Premio  de  la  Virtud,”  relates,  appar- 
ently, an  event  in  the  history  of  his 
own  family.  Others  of  his  tales  are 
taken  from  the  Italian.  That  of  “ Au- 
relio  y Alexandra,”  for  instance,  is 
a rifacmento  of  Bandello’s  story  of 
“Romeo  and  Juliet,”  used  at  just 
about  the  same  time  by  Shakspeare. 


Chap.  XXXVI.]  LINAN  Y VERDUGO,  AND  OTHERS. 


103 


published  the  same  year,  by  Liiian  y Verdugo,  — a sin- 
gular series  of  stories,  related  by  two  elderly  gentlemen 
to  a young  man,  in  order  to  warn  him  against  the  dan- 
gers of  a gay  life  at  Madrid.*^  Lope  de  Vega,  as  usual, 
followed  Avhere  success  had  already  been  obtained  by 
others.  In  1621,  he  added  a short  tale  to  his  “ Philo- 
mena,”  and,  a little  later,  three  more  to.  his  “ Circe”;  but 
he  himself  thought  them  a doubtful  experiment,  and 
they,  in  fact,  proved  an  unhappy  one.'®  Other  persons, 
however,  encouraged  by  the  general  favor  that  evident- 
ly waited  on  light  and  amusing  collections  of  stories, 
crowded  more  earnestly  along  in  the  same  path ; — Sa- 
lazar, with  his  “Flowers  of  Recreation,”  in  1622;^®  — 
Lugo,  with  his  “Novelas,”  the  same  year;^' — and  Ca- 
merino,  Avith  his  “ LoA'e  Tales,” only  a year  later;  — 
all  the  last  six  works  having  been  produced  in  three 
years,  and  all  belonging  to  the  school  of  Timoneda,  as 
it  had  been  modified  by  the  genius  of  Cervantes  and 
the  practical  skill  of  Salas  Barbadillo. 

This  was  popular  success ; but  it  was  so  much  in  one 
direction,  that  its  results  became  a little  monotonous. 


“ Guia  Y Avisos  de  Forasteros, 
etc.,  por  el  Licenciado  Don  Antonio 
Lilian  yYerdugo,”  Madrid,  1620,  4to. 
In  a discourse  preceding  the  tales, 
which  are  fourteen  in  number,  their 
author  is  spoken  of  as  having  written 
other  works,  and  as  being  an  old  man ; 
but  I find  no  notice  of  him  except  that 
in  Antonio,  (Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p. 
141,)  which  gives  only  the  titles  of 
the  tales,  and  mistakes  the  year  in 
which  they  were  printed.  Some  of 
the  stories,  it  may  be  added,  seem 
true,  and  some  of  the  sketches  of 
manners  are  lively. 

^9  See,  ante,  Vol.  TI.  pp.  156,  157, 
an  account  of  these  tales  of  Lope,  and 
the  way  in  which  four  others  that  are 
not  his  were  added  to  them,  and  yet  ap- 
pear in  his  collected  works,  Tom.  VIII. 

20  Literally,  Pinks  of  Recreation,  — 


“ Clavellinas  de  Recreacion,  por  Am- 
brosiode  Salazar,”  Ruan,  1622, 12mo. 
He  wrote  several  other  Spanish  works, 
printed,  as  this  was,  in  France,  where 
he  was  physician  to  the  queen.  An- 
tonio, Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  68. 

21  “ Novelas  de  Francisco  de  Lugo 
y Avila,”  Madrid,  1622,  12mo. 

22  “ Novelas  Amorosas  por  Joseph 
Camerino,”  Madrid,  1623  and  1736, 
4to.  (Antonio,  Bib.  Nova,  Tom.  II. 
p.  361.)  He  was  an  Italian,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  hint  in  Lope  de  Vega's 
sonnet  prefixed  to  his  tales,  as  well  as 
from  his  own  Proemio.  His  Spanish, 
however,  is  pure  enough,  except  in 
those  affectations  of  style  which  he 
shared  with  many  Castilian  writers  of 
histime.  His  “ Dama  Beata,”  along- 
er  tale,  was  printed  at  Madrid,  in  1655, 
in  4to. 


104  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

Variety,  therefore,  was  soon  demanded;  and,  being  de- 
manded by  the  voice  of  fashion,  it  was  soon  obtained. 
The  new  form,  thus  introduced,  was  not,  however,  a 
violent  change.  It  was  made  by  a well-known  dramatic 
author,  who  — taking  a hint  from  the  “ Decamerone,” 
already  in  part  adopted  by  Barbadillo,  in  his  “ House  of 
Respectable  Amusements  ” — substituted  a theatrical 
framework  to  connect  his  separate  stories,  instead  of 
the  merely  narrative  one  used  by  Boccaccio  and  his  fol- 
lowers. This  fell  in,  happily,  with  the  passion  for  the 
stage  which  then  pervaded  all  Spain,  and  it  was  successful. 

The  change  referred  to  is  first  found  in  the  “ Cigar- 
rales  de  Toledo,”  published  in  1624,  by  Gabriel  Tellez, 
who,  as  we  have  already  observed,  when  he  left  his 
convent  and  came  before  the  public  as  a secular  author, 
always  disguised  himself  under  the  name  of  Tirso  de 
Molina.  It  is  a singular  book,  and  takes  its  name  from 
a word  of  Arabic  origin  peculiar  to  Toledo ; Cigarral 
signifying  there  a small  country-house  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  city,  resorted  to  only  for  recreation  and 
only  in  the  summer  season.  At  one  of  these  houses 
Tirso  supposes  a wedding  to  have  happened,  under  cir- 
cumstances interesting  to  a large  number  of  persons, 
who,  wishing  in  consequence  of  it  to  be  much  together, 
agreed  to  hold  a series  of  entertainments  at  their  differ- 
ent houses,  in  an  order  to  be  determined  by  lot  and  un- 
der the  superintendence  of  one  of  their  company,  each  of 
whom,  during  the  single  day  of  his  authority,  should 
have  supreme  control  and  be  responsible  for  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  whole  party. 

• The  “ Cigarrales  de  Toledo  ” is  an  account  of  these 
entertainments,  consisting  of  stories  that  were  read  or 
related  at  them,  poetry  that  was  recited,  and  plays  that 
were  acted,  — in  short,  of  all  that  made  up  the  various 


Chap.  XXXVI.]  TIRSO  DE  MOLINA.  — MONTALVAN. 


105 


exhibitions  and  amusements  of  the  party.  Some  portions 
of  it  are  fluent  and  harmonious  beyond  the  common  suc- 
cess of  the  age ; but  in  general,  as  in  the  descriptions 
and  in  the  poor  contrivance  of  the  “ Labyrinth,”  it  is  dis- 
flgured  by  conceits  and  extravagances,  belonging  to  the 
follies  of  Gongorism.  The  work,  however,  pleased,  and 
Tirso  himself  prepared  another  of  the  same  kind,  call- 
ed “ Pleasure  and  Profit,”  — graver  and  more  religious 
in  its  tone,  but  of  less  poetical  merit,  — which  was  writ- 
ten in  1632,  and  printed  in  1635.  But,  though  both 
Avere  well  received,  neither  was  finished.  The  last  ends 
Avith  the  promise  of  a second  part,  and  the  first,  Avhich 
undertakes  to  gLe  an  account  of  the  entertainments 
of  tAventy  days,  embraces,  in  fact,  only  five.^" 

The  style  they  adopted  was  soon  imitated.  Montal- 
van,  who,  like  his  master,  never  failed  to  folloAv  the  indi- 
cations of  the  popular  taste,  printed,  in  1632,  his  “Para 
'fodos,”  or  For  EA^erybody,  containing  the  imaginary 
amusements  of  a party  of  literary  friends,  Avho  agreed 
to  cater  for  each  other  during  a Aveek,  and  Avhose  festiv- 
ities are  ended,  as  those  of  the  “ Cigarrales  ” began,  Avith 
a Avedding.  Some  of  its  inventions  are  very  learnedly 
dull,  and  it  is  throughout  less  Avell  arranged  than  the 
account  of  the  entertainments  near  Toledo,  and  falls  less 
naturally  into  a dramatic  framcAvork.  But  it  shoAvs  its 
author’s  talent.  The  indiA'idual  stories  are  pleasantly 
told,  especially  the  one  called  “ At  the  End  of  the  Year 
One  Thousand”;  and,  as  a Avhole,  the  “Para  Todos  ” Avas 

23  Baena,  Hijos  de  Madrid,  Tom.  The  “ Deleytar  Aprovechando  ” was 
TI.  p.  267.  1 find  no  edition  of  tlie  reprinted  at  Madrid  in  1765,  in  2 

Cigarrales  de  Toledo  ” cited  earlier  tom.  4to.  In  the  “ Cigarrales,”  Tirso 
than  1631 ; but  my  copy  is  dated  Ma-  promises  to  publish  twelve  novelas, 
drid,  1624,  4to,  and  is  evidently  of  with  an  argument  to  connect  them, 
the  first  publication.  Covarrubias  (ad  adding,  satirically,  “ Not  stolen  from 
verb.  gives  the  proper  mean-  the  Tuscans”; — but  they  never  ap- 

ing of  the  word,  which  is  perhaps  peared. 
plain  enough  from  the  work  itself. 

u 


VOL.  III. 


106 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Ptwou  H. 


popular,  going  through  nine  editions  in  less  than  thirty 
years,  notwithstanding  a very  severe  attack  on  it  by 
(-iuevedo.^^  Its  popularity,  too,  had  the  natural  effect 
of  producing  imitations,  among  which,  in  1640,  appear- 
ed, “ Para  Algunos,”  — For  a Few,  — by  Matias  de  los 
Peyes;"^  and,  somewhat  later,  “Para  Si,”  — For  one’s 
own  Self,  — by  Juan  Fernandez  y Peralta.^*^ 

Meantime  the  succession  of  separate  tales  had  been 
actively  kept  up.  Montalvan  published  eight  in  1624, 
written  with  more  than  the  usual  measure  of  grace  in 
such  Spanish  compositions ; one  of  them,  “ The  Disas- 
trous Friendship,”  founded  on  the  sufferings  of  an  Al- 


Baena,  Tom.  III.  p.  157.  1 own 

the  ninth  edition  of  “ Para  Todos,” 
Alcala,  16C1,  4to.  Quevedo  seems 
to  have  borne  some  personal  ill-will 
against  Montalvan,  whom  he  calls 

a little  remnant  of  Lope  de  Vega,” 
and  says  his  “ Para  Todos  ” is  “ like 
the  coach  from  Alcala  to  Madrid,  full 
of  all  sorts  of  passengers,  including 
llie  worst.”  (Obras,  Tom.  XI.  p. 
129 . ) Quevedo  does  not  appear  among 
those  who  in  1639  offered  verses  or 
other  tributes  to  the  memory  of  Mon- 
talvan, though  their  number  is  above 
a hundred  and  fifty,  and  includes,  I 
think,  nearly  or  quite  every  other 
Spanish  author  of  any  note  then  liv- 
ing. See  “ Lagrimas  Panegyricas  en 
la  Muerte  de  Montalvan,”  1639. 

25  Matias  de  los  Reyes  was  the  au- 
thor of  other  tales  besides  those  in  his 
•‘Para  Algunos.”  His  “ Curial  del 
Parnaso,”  (Madrid,  1624,  8vo,)  of 
which  only  the  first  part  was  pub- 
lished, contains  several.  He  also 
wrote  for  the  stage.  His  “ Para  Al- 
gunos ” was  printed  at  Madrid,  1640, 
in  quarto,  and  is  not  ill  written.  Ba- 
ena, Hijos,  Tom.  IV.  p.  97. 

26  I have  never  seen  the  “ Para  Si  ” 
of  Peralta,  and  know  it  only  from  its 
title  in  catalogues.  Two  other  simi- 
lar works,  of  a later  date,  may  be 
added  to  these.  The  first  is  “El  En- 
tretenido,”  by  Antonio  Sanchez  Tor- 
toles,  which  was  licensed  to  be  print- 


ed in  1671,  but  of  which  I have  seen  no 
edition  except  that  of  Madrid,  1729, 
4to.  It  contains  the  amusements  of 
an  academy  during  the  Christmas  hol- 
idays ; namely,  a play,  cntrcmes,  and 
poems,  with  discussions  on  subjects  of 
natural  history,  learning,  and  theolo- 
gy. But  it  contains  no  tales,  and  goes 
through  only  ten  of  the  fourteen  even- 
ings whose  entertainments  it  announ- 
ces. The  remaining  four  were  filled  up 
by  Joseph  Moraleja,  (Madrid,  1741, 
4to,)  with  materials  generally  more 
light  and  gay,  and,  in  one  instance, 
with  a tale.  The  other  work  referred  to 
is  “ Gustos  y Disgustos  del  Lentiscar 
de  Cartagena,  por  el  Licenciado  Gines 
Campillo  de  Bayle  ” (Valencia,  1689, 
4to).  It  takes  its  name  from  the 
“ Lentiscar,”  a spot  near  Carthagena 
where  the  Lentisco  or  mastich-tree 
abounds  ; and  it  consists  of  twelve 
days’  entertainment,  given  at  a coun- 
try-house to  a young  lady  who  hes- 
itated about  taking  the  veil,  but,  find- 
ing her  mistake  from  the  unhappy 
ending  of  each  of  these  days  of  pleas- 
ure, returns  gladly  to  her  convent  and 
completes  her  profession.  Neither  of 
these  works  is  worth  the  trouble  of 
reading.  The  four  “Academias”  of 
Jacinto  Polo,  the  amusements  of  four 
days  of  a wedding,  (Obras,  1670,  pp. 
1 - 106,)  are  better,  but  consist  chiefly 
of  poems. 


Chap.  XXXVI  ] 


MARIANA  DE  CARBAJAL. 


107 


gerine  captivity,  being  one  of  the  best  in  the  language, 
and  all  of  them  so  successful,  that  they  were  printed 
eleven  times  in  about  thirty  years.~^  Cespedes  y Mene- 
ses  followed,  in  1628,  with  a series  entitled  “Rare  His- 
tories ” ; ^ — Moya,  at  about  the  same  time,  published  a 
single  whimsical  story  on  “ The  Fancies  of  a Fright”  ; 
in  which  he  relates  a succession  of  marvellous  incidents, 
that,  as  he  declares,  flashed  through  his  own  imagina- 
tion Avhile  falling  down  a precipice  in  the  Sierra  More- 
lia — and  Castro  y Anaya  published,  in  1632,  flve  tales 
called  “ The  Auroras  of  Diana,”  because  they  are  told 
in  the  early  dawn  of  each  morning,  during  five  succes- 
sive days,  to  amuse  Diana,  a lady  who,  after  a long  ill- 
ness, had  fallen  into  a state  of  melancholy.^® 

The  fair  sex,  too,  entered  into  the  general  fashionable 
competition.  Mariana  de  Carbajal,  a native  of  Granada, 
and  descended  from  the  ancient  ducal  families  of  San 
Carlos  and  Rivas,  published,  in  1638,  eight  tales,  pleas- 
ing both  by  their  invention  and  by  the  simplicity  of 
their  style,  Avhich  she  called  “ Christmas  at  Madrid,”  or 
“EA'ening  Amusements.”®'  And  in  1637  and  1647,  Ma- 


2'^  They  were  translated  into  French 
by  Rampale,  and  printed  at  Paris  in 
1644  (see  Baena  and  Brunet)  ; and 
are  in  the  Index  Expurgatorius  of 
1667,  p.  735. 

^ Gonzalo  de  Cespedes  y Meneses, 

Historias  Peregrinas,”  Zaragoza, 
16'28,  1630,  and  1647,  the  last  in 
l‘2mo.  Only  the  first  part  was  ever 
published.  It  is  a curious  book.  It 
opens  with  “An  Abridgment  of  the 
Excellences  of  Spain,”  and  each  of 
the  six  tales  of  which  it  consists,  hav- 
ing its  scene  laid  in  some  famous 
Spanish  city,  is  preceded  by  a similar 
abridgment  of  the  excellences  of  the 
particular  city  to  which  it  relates. 
Cespedes  is  the  author  of  the  “ Ce- 
rardo  Espauol,”  noticed,  ante,  p.  87, 
and,  like  many  of  the  story-writers  of 
his  time,  was  a native  of  Madrid. 


29  Juan  Martinez  de  Moya,  “ Fan- 
tasias de  un  Susto.”  It  reminds  us  of 
the  theory  of  Coleridge  about  the  ra- 
pidity witli  which  a series  of  events 
can  be  hurried  througli  the  mind  of  a 
drowning  man,  or  any  person  under  a 
similar  excitement  of  mind.  It  is, 
however,  a very  poor  story,  intended 
for  a satire  on  manners,  and  is  full 
of  bad  verses.  There  is  a reprint  of 
it,  Madrid,  1738,  12mo. 

30  u Auroras  de  Diana,  por  Don  Pe- 
dro de  Castro  y Anaya.”  lie  was  a 
native  of  Murcia,  and  there  are  edi- 
tions of  his  “ Auroras  ” of  1632,  1637, 
1640,  and  1654,  the  last  printed  at 
Coimbra,  in  12mo. 

31  Mariana  de  Carbajal  y Saavedra, 
“ Novelas  Entretenidas,”  Madrid, 
1633,  4to.  At  the  end  of  these  eight 
stories,  she  promises  a second  part ; 


108 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


ria  de  Zayas,  a lady  of  the  court,  printed  two  collections  ; 
the  first  called  simply  “ Tales,”  and  the  last  “ Saraos,” 
or  Balls ; each  a series  of  ten  stories  within  itself,  and 
both  connected  together  by  the  entertainments  of  a par- 
ty of  friends  at  Christmas,  and  the  dances  and  fetes  at 
the  wedding  of  two  of  their  number,  during  the  holi- 
days that  followed.^^ 

Again,  slight  changes  in  such  fictions  were  attempted. 
Mata,  in  two  dull  tales,  called  “ The  Solitudes  of  Aure- 
lia,” published  in  1637,  endeavoured  to  give  them  a more 
religious  character  and  in  1641,  Andre  del  Castillo, 
in  six  stories  misnamed  “ The  Masquerade  of  Taste,” 
sought  to  give  them  even  a lighter  tone  than  the  old 
one.'^  Both  found  successors.  Lozano’s  “ Solitudes  of 
Life,”  which  are  four  stories  supposed  to  be  told  by  a 
hermit  on  the  wild  peaks  of  the  Monserrate,  belong  to 
the  first  class,  and,  notwithstanding  a somewhat  affected 
style,  were  much  yii’aised  by  Calderon,  and  went  through 
at  least  six  editions ; — while,  in  the  opposite  direc- 

tion, between  1625  and  1640,  we  have  a number  of  the 
freest  secular  tales,  by  Castillo  Solorzano,  among  which 
the  best  are  probably  “ The  Alleviations  of  Cassandra,” 


and  in  the  edition  of  1728  there  are,  in 
fact,  two  more  stories,  marked  as  the 
ninth  and  tenth,  but  I think  they  are 
not  hers. 

Baena,  Hijos,  Tom.  IV.  p.  48. 
Both  collections  are  printed  together 
in  the  edition  of  Madrid,  1795,  4to  ; — 
the  first  being  called  Novelas  and  the 
second  Saraos. 

23  Geronimo  Fernandez  de  Mata, 
“ Soledades  de  Aurelia,”  1638,  to 
which,  in  the  edition  of  Madrid,  1737, 
12mo,  is  added  a poor  dialogue  between 
( .'rates  and  his  wife,  Hipparcha,  against 
ambition  and  worldliness  ; originally 
printed  in  1637. 

24  Andre  del  Castillo,  “ La  Mogi- 
ganga  del  Gusto,”  Zaragoza,  1641. 


Segunda  Impresion,  Madrid,  1734. 
They  are  written  in  the  affected  style 
of  the  cultos. 

25  Christoval  Lozano,  “ Soledades 
de  la  Vida,”  6a  impresion,  Barcelo- 
na, 1722,  4to.  After  the  four  con- 
nected stories  told  by  the  hermit,  there 
follow,  in  this  edition,  six  others, 
which,  though  separate,  are  in  the 
same  tone  and  style.  Lozano  wrote 
the  “ Reyes  Nuevos  de  Toledo,”  no- 
ticed, ante,  p.  91  ; the  “ David  Perse- 
guido,”  and  other  similar  works  ; — 
at  least,  I believe  they  are  all  by  one 
person,  though  the  Index  Expurgato- 
rius  of  1790  makes  the  “ Soledades  ” 
the  work  of  Gaspar  Lozano,  *as  if  he 
were  not  the  same. 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


MATA,  AND  OTHERS. 


109 


and  “ The  Country-House  of  Laura,”  both  imitations  of 
Castro’s  “ Diana.” 

In  the  same  way,  the  succession  of  short  fictions  was 
continued  unbroken,  until  it  ceased  with  the  general 
decay  of  Spanish  literature  at  the  end  of  the  century. 
Thus  we  have,  in  1641,  “The  Various  Effects  of  Love 
and  Fortune,”  by  Alonso  de  Alcala ; five  stories,  such 
as  may  he  imagined  from  the  fact,  that,  in  each  of  them, 
one  of  the  five  vowels  is  entirely  omitted;^’’  — in  1645, 
“ The  Warnmgs,  or  Experiences,  of  Jacinto,”  by  Villal- 
pando,  which  may  have  been  taken  from  his  own  life, 
since  Jacinto  was  the  first  of  his  own  names  — in 
1663,  “ The  Festivals  of  Wit  and  Entertainments  of 
Taste,”  by  Andres  de  Prado  — and,  in  1666,  a se- 
ries collected  from  different  authors,  by  Isidro  de  Po- 
hles,‘°  and  published  under  the  title  of  “ Wonders  of 


36  Of  Alonso  del  Castillo  Solorzano 
I have  spoken,  ante,  p.  72,  as  the 
author  of  picaresque  tales.  A list  of 
most  of  his  works  may  be  found  in 
Antonio,  (Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  15,) 
among'  which  is  a sort  of  suite  with 
the  following  titles  : “ Jornadas  Ale- 
gres,”  1626; — Tardes  Entreteni- 
das,”  1625; — and  “ Noches  de  Pla- 
cer,” 1631.  None  of  these  had  much 
success ; nor,  indeed,  did  he  succeed 
much  in  any  of  his  tales,  except  “ La 
Garduua  de  Sevilla,”  already  noticed. 
But  his  “Quinta  de  Laura”  was 
printed  three  times,  and  his  “ Alivios 
de  Cassandra,”  which  first  appeared 
m 1640,  — and  is  something  like  the 
“ Para  Todos  ” of  Montalvan,  being  a 
collection  of  dramas,  poetry,  etc.,  be- 
sides six  stories,  — was  translated  in- 
to French,  and  printed  at  Paris,  both 
in  1683  and  1685. 

37  Alonso  de  Alcala  y Herrera, 
“ Varies  Efetos  de  Amor,”  Lisboa, 
1641,  18mo.  He  was  a Portuguese, 
but  was  of  Spanish  origin,  and  wrote 
Spanish  with  purity,  as  well  as  Por- 
tuguese. (Barbosa,  Bib.  Lus.,  foL, 
Tom.  1.  p.  26.)  Clemencin  cites 


these  stories  of  Alcala  as  proof  of  the 
richness  of  the  Spanish  language. 
(Ed.  Don  Quixote,  Tom.  IV.  p.  286.) 
There  is  a tale,  printed  by  Guevara, 
called  “ Los  Tres  Hermanos,”  in  the 
volume  with  his  “Diablo  Cojuelo,” 
(Madrid,  1733,  12ino,)  in  which  the 
letter  A is  omitted  ; and  in  1654  Fer- 
nando Jacinto  de  Zarate  published  a 
dull  love-story,  called  “ Meritos  dis- 
ponen  Premios,  Discurso  Lirico,” 
omitting  the  same  vowel ; — but  the 
five  tales  of  Alcala  are  better  done 
than  either. 

38  Jacinto  de  Villalpando,  “ Escar- 
mientos  de  Jacinto,”  Zaragoza,  1645. 
He  was  Marquis  of  Osera,  and  pub- 
lished other  works  in  the  course  of  the 
next  ten  years  after  the  appearance  of 
the  “Jacinto,”  one  of  which,  at  least, 
appeared  under  the  name  of  “ Fabio 
Clymente.”  See,  ante,  Vol.  11.  p.  483. 

39  Literally,  Luncheons  of  Wit, 
etc.  “ Meriendas  del  Ingenio  y En- 
tretenimientos  del  Gusto,”  Zaragoza, 
1663,  8vo.  Six  tales. 

^9  Isidro  de  Robles  collected  the 
“Varies  Efetos  de  Amor”  (Madrid, 
1666,  4to).  They  were  published 


110  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

Love.”  All  these,  as  their  names  indicate,  belong  to 
one  school ; and  although  there  is  an  occasional  variety 
in  their  individual  tones,  some  of  them  being  humorous 
and  others  sentimental,  and  although  some  of  them 
have  their  scenes  in  Spain  and  others  in  Italy  or  Al- 
giers, still,  as  the  purpose  of  all  was  only  the  lightest 
amusement,  they  may  all  be  grouped  together  and  char- 
acterized in  the  mass,  as  of  little  value,  and  as  falling 
off  in  merit  the  nearer  they  approach  the  period  when 
such  fictions  ceased  in  the  elder  Spanish  literature. 

One  more  variety  in  the  characteristics  of  this  style 
of  writing  in  Spain  is,  however,  so  distinct  from  the  rest, 
that  it  should  be  separately  mentioned,  — that  which 
has  sometimes  been  called  the  Allegorical  and  Satirical 
'fale,  and  which  generally  took  the  form  of  a Vision. 
It  was,  probably,  suggested  by  the  bold  and  original 
“ Visions  ” of  Quevedo ; and  the  instance  of  it  most 
worthy  of  notice  is  “ The  Limping  Devil  ” of  Luis  Ve- 
lez de  Guevara,  which  appeared  in  1641.  It  is  a short 
story,  founded  on  the  idea  that  a student  releases  from 
his  confinement,  in  a magician’s  vial,  the  Limping  Dev- 
il, who,  in  return  for  this  service,  carries  his  liberator 
through  the  air,  and,  unroofing,  as  it  were,  the  houses 
of  Madrid,  during  the  stillness  of  the  night,  shows  him 
the  secrets  that  are  passing  within.  It  is  divided  into 
ten  “ Leaps,”  as  they  afterwards  spring  from  place  to 
place  in  different  parts  of  Spain,  in  order  to  pounce  on 
their  prey,  and  it  is  satirical  throughout.  Parts  of  it 
are  very  happy ; among  which  may  be  selected  those 
relating  to  fashionable  life,  to  the  life  of  rogues,  and  to 
that  of  men  of  letters,  in  the  large  cities  of  Castile  and 


again,  with  the  five  tales  of  Alcala,  thus  eleven,  with  three  “ Sucesos  ” 
already  noted,  in  1709,  1719,  and  at  the  end,  published  under  the  title  of 
1760;  — the  number  of  tales  being  “ Varies  Prodigies  de  Amor.” 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


GUEVARA.  — POLO. 


Ill 


Andalusia,  though  these,  like  the  rest,  are  often  disfig- 
ured with  the  bad  taste  then  so  common.  On  the 
whole,  however,  it  is  an  amusing  fiction,  — partly  alle- 
gorical and  partly  sketched  from  living  manners,  — and 
is  to  be  placed  among  the  more  spirited  prose  satires  in 
modern  literature,  both  in  its  original  form  and  in  tin' 
form  given  to  it  by  Le  Sage,  whose  rifacimento  has  car- 
ried it,  under  the  name  of  “ Le  Liable  Boiteux,”  whei  - 
ever  letters  are  known.^^ 

Earlier  than  the  appearance  of  the  Limping  Devil, 
however.  Polo  had  written  his  “ Hospital  of  Incura- 
bles,” a direct,  but  poor,  imitation  of  Quevedo  ; and  in 
1647,  under  an  assumed  name,  he  published  his  “Uni- 
versity of  Love,  or  School  for  Selfishness,”  a satire 
against  mercenary  matches,  thrown  into  the  shape  of 
a vision  of  the  University  of  Love,  where  the  feir  sex 
are  brought  up  in  the  arts  of  profitable  intrigue,  and 
receive  degrees  according  to  their  progress."^^  It  is,  in 
general,  an  ill-managed  allegory,  filled  with  bad  puns 
and  Avorse  verse ; but  there  is  one  passage  so  charac- 
teristic of  Spanish  Avit  in  this  form  of  fiction,  that  it 
may  be  cited  as  an  illustration  of  the  entire  class  to 
aaLIcIi  it  belongs. 

“ ‘ That  young  creature  Avhom  you  see  there,’  said  tlu' 


“*1  Antonio  (Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  II.  p. 
68)  and  Montalvan  (in  the  catalogue 
at  the  end  of  his  “ ParaTodos,”  1661, 
p.  545)  make  him  one  of  the  principal 
and  most  fashionable  dramatic  authors 
of  his  time.  (See,a?i<e,Vol.  II.  p.  293.) 
The  “ Diablo  Cojuelo  ” has  been  very 
often  reprinted  in  Spanish  since  1641. 
Le  Sage  published  his  “Liable  Boi- 
teux” in  1707,  chiefly  from  Guevara  ; 
and  nineteen  years  afterwards  enlarged 
it  by  the  addition  of  more  Spanish  sto- 
ries from  Santos  and  others,  and  more 
Parisian  scandal.  In  the  mean  time, 
it  had  been  carried  upon  the  stage, 


where,  as  well  as  in  its  original  form, 
it  had  a prodigious  success. 

^2  “ IJniversidad  de  Amor  y Escu- 
ela  del  Interes,  A^’erdades  Souadas  d 
Suefio  Verdadero.”  The  first  part 
appeared  under  the  name  of  Antoliiie/. 
de  Piedra  Buena,  and  the  second  un- 
der that  of  El  Bachiller  Gaston  Dali- 
so  de  Orozco ; but  both  were  printed 
subsequently  in  the  works  of  Jacinto 
Polo,  and  both  appear  together  in  a 
separate  edition,  1664,  filling  sixty- 
three  leaves,  18mo,  and  including 
some  of  Polo’s  poetry. 


112  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

God  of  Love,  as  he  led  me  on,  ‘ is  the  chief  captain  of 
my  war,  the  one  that  has  brought  most  soldiers  to  my 
feet  and  enlisted  most  men  under  my  banners.  The 
elderly  person  that  is  leading  her  along  by  the  hand 
is  her  aunt’  ‘Her  aunt,  did  you  sayL  I replied;  ‘her 
aunt?  Then  there  is  an  end  of  all  my  love  for  her. 
That  word  aunt  is  a counter  poison  that  has  disinfected 
me  entirely,  and  quite  healed  the  wound  your  well- 
planted  arrow  was  beginning  to  make  in  my  heart. 
For,  however  much  a man  may  be  in  love,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  an  aunt  will  always  be  enough  to  purge 
him  clean  of  it.  Inquisitive,  suspicious,  envious,  — one 
or  the  other  she  cannot  fail  to  be,  — and  if  the  niece 
have  the  luck  to  escape,  the  lover  never  has ; for  if 
she  is  envious,  she  wants  him  for  herself;  and  if  she 
is  only  suspicious,  she  still  spoils  all  comfort,  so  dis- 
concerting every  little  project,  and  so  disturbing  every 
little  nice  plan,  as  to  render  pleasure  itself  unsavory.’ 
‘ AVliy,  what  a desperately  bad  opinion  you  have  of 
aunts  ! ’ said  Love.  ‘ To  be  sure  I have,’  said  I.  ‘ If  the 
state  of  innocence  in  Avhich  Adam  and  Eve  were  cre- 
ated had  nothing  else  to  recommend  it,  the  simple  fact 
that  there  could  have  been  no  aunts  in  Paradise  would 
have  been  enough  for  me.  Why,  every  morning,  as 
soon  as  I get  up,  I cross  myself  and  say,  “ By  the  sign 
of  the  Holy  Pood,  from  all  aunts  deliver  us  this  day. 
Good  Lord!”  And  every  time  1* repeat  the  Paternoster, 
after  “ Lead  us  not  into  temptation,”  I always  add,  — 
“ nor  into  the  way  of  aunts  either.”  ’ ” 

The  example  of  Quevedo  was,  again,  followed  by  Mar- 
cos Garcia,  who  in  1657  published  his  “Phlegm  of 
Pedro  Hernandez,”  an  imaginary,  but  popular,  person- 
age, whose  arms,  according  to  an  old  Spanish  proverb, 
fell  out  of  their  sockets  from  the  mere  listlessness  of 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


SANTOS. 


113 


their  oAvner.  It  is  a vision,  in  which  women-servants 
who  spend  their  lives  in  active  cheating,  students  press- 
ing vigorously  forward  to  become  quacks  and  pettifog- 
gers, spendthrift  soldiers,  and  similar  uneasy,  unprin- 
cipled persons  of  other  conditions,  are  contrasted  with 
those  who,  trusting  to  a quiet  disposition,  float  noise- 
lessly down  the  current  of  life,  and  succeed  without  an 
effort  and  without  knowmg  how  they  do  it.  The  gen- 
eral allegory  is  meagre ; but  some  of  the  individual 
sketches  are  well  imagined.'*^ 

The  person,  however,  who,  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  succeeded  best  in  this  style  of 
composition,  as  well  as  in  tales  of  other  kinds,  was  Fran- 
cisco Santos,  a native  of  Madrid,  who  died  not  far  from 
the  year  1700.  Between  1663  and  1697,  he  gave  to 
the  world  sixteen  volumes  of  different  kinds  of  works 
for  popular  amusement ; — generally  short  stories,  but 
some  of  them  encumbered  with  allegorical  personages 
and  tedious  moral  discussions.^^  The  oldest  of  the  se- 
ries, “ Dia  y Noche  en  Madrid,”  or,  as  it  may  be  trans- 
lated, Life  in  Madrid,  though  a mere  Action  founded 
on  manners,  is  divided  into  what  the  author  terms  Eigh- 
teen Discourses.  It  opens,  as  such  Spanish  tales  are  too 
apt  to  open,  somewhat  pompously;  the  first  scene  de- 


"^3  Marcos  Garcia,  “La  Flema  de 
Pedro  Hernandez,  Discurso  Moral  y 
Politico,”  Madrid,  1657,  12mo.  The 
author  was  a surgeon  of  Madrid,  and 
wrote  “Honor  de  la  Medecina”; 
and  another  “ Papelillo,”  without  his 
name,  which  he  mentions  in  his  Pro- 
logo. (Antonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  H. 
p.  83.)  He  shows,  at  the  beginning 
of  his  “ Flema,”  that  he  means  to  im- 
itate Quevedo ; but  he  has  a good  deal 
of  cultismo  in  his  style.  For  the 
meaning  of  “Flema,”  see  Covarru- 
bias,  ad  verb.  — One  more  trifle  may 
here  be  mentioned  ; the  “ Desengano 
del  Hombre  en  el  Tribunal  de  la  For- 

15 


tuna  y Casa  de  Descontentos,  ideado 
por  Don  Juan  Martinez  de  Cuellar,” 
1663.  It  is  a vision,  in  which  the  au- 
thor goes  to  the  house  of  “ Desenga- 
ilo,” — that  peculiarly  Castilian  word, 
which  may  here  be  translated  Truth. 
He  is  led  afterwards  to  the  palace  and 
tribunal  of  Fortune,  where  he  is  dis- 
abused of  his  errors  concerning  all 
earthly  good.  The  fiction  is  of  little 
worth,  and  the  style  is  that  of  the 
school  of  Gongora. 

44  Baena,  Hijos  de  Madrid,  Tom. 
II.  p.  216.  There  is  a coarse  edition 
of  the  works  of  Santos,  in  4 tom.  4to, 
Madrid,  1723. 

j * 


VOL.  III. 


114 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


scribing  with  too  much  elaborateness  a procession  of 
three  hundred  emancipated  captives,  who  enter  Madrid 
praising  God  and  rejoicing  at  their  release  from  the 
horrors  of  Algerine  servitude.  One  of  these  captives, 
the  hero  of  the  story,  falls  immediately  into  the  hands 
of  a shrewd  and  not  over-honest  servant,  named  Juani- 
llo,  who,  having  begun  the  world  as  a beggar,  and  risen 
by  cunning  so  far  as  to  be  employed  in  the  capacity  of 
an  inferior  servant  by  a fraternity  of  monks,  now  under- 
takes to  make  the  stranger  acquainted  with  the  con- 
dition of  Madrid,  serving  him  as  a guide  wherever  he 
goes,  and  interpreting  to  him  whatever  is  most  charac- 
teristic of  the  manners  and  follies  of  the  capital.  Some 
of  the  tales  and  sketches  thus  introduced  are  full  of  life 
and  truth,  as,  for  instance,  those  relating  to  the  prisons, 
gaming-houses,  and  hospitals,  and  especially  one  in 
which  a coquette,  meeting  a poor  man  at  a bull-fight, 
so  dupes  him  by  her  blandishments,  that  she  sends  him 
back  penniless,  at  midnight,  to  his  despairing  wife  and 
children,  who,  anxious  and  without  food,  have  been 
waiting  from  the  early  morning  to  have  him  return 
with  their  dinner.  This  little  volume,  several  parts  of 
which  have  been  freely  used  by  Le  Sage,  ends  with  an 
account  of  the  captive’s  adventures  in  Italy,  in  Spain, 
and  in  Algiers,  given  by  himself  in  a truly  national 
tone,  and  with  fluency  and  spirit.'*® 

“ Periquillo  ” — another  of  these  collections  of  sketch- 
es and  tales,  less  well  written  than  the  last,  except  in 
the  merely  narrative  portions  — contains  an  account  of 
a foundling,  who,  after  the  ruin  and  death  of  a pious 
couple  that  first  picked  him  up  at  their  door  on  a 

45  “ Dia  y Noche  en  Madrid,  Dis-  which  there  are  editions  of  1708, 
cursos  de  lo  mas  Notable  que  en  el  1734,  etc. 
passa,”  Madrid,  1663,  13mo;  besides 


Chap.  XXXVI.] 


SANTOS. 


115 


Christmas  morning,  begins  the  world  for  himself  as  the 
leader  of  a blind  beggar.  From  this  condition,  which, 
in  such  Spanish  stories,  always  seems  to  be  regarded  as 
the  lowest  possible  in  society,  he  rises  to  be  the  servant 
of  a cavalier,  who  proves  to  be  a mysterious  robber,  and 
after  escaping  from  whom  he  falls  into  the  hands  of 
yet  worse  persons,  and  is  apprehended  under  circum- 
stances that  remind  us  of  the  story  of  Doha  Mencia  in 
“ Gil  Bias.”  He,  however,  vindicates  his  innocence, 
and,  being  released  from  the  fangs  of  justice,  returns, 
weary  of  the  world,  to  his  first  home,  where  he  leads 
an  ascetic  life ; makes  long,  pedantic  discourses  on  vir- 
tue to  his  admiring  townsmen ; and  proves,  in  fact,  a 
sort  of  humble  philosopher,  growing  constantly  more 
and  more  devout  till  the  account  of  him  ends  at  last 
with  a prayer.  The  whole  is  interesting  among  Span- 
• ish  works  of  fiction,  because  it  is  evidently  written  both 
in  imitation  of  the  picaresque  novels  and  in  opposition 
to  them ; since  Periquillo,  from  the  lowest  origm,  gets 
on  by  neither  roguery  nor  cleverness,  but  by  honesty 
and  good  faith ; and,  instead  of  rising  in  the  world 
and  becoming  rich  and  courtly,  settles  patiently  down 
into  a village  hermit,  or  a sort  of  poor  Christian  Di- 
ogenes. No  doubt,  he  has  neither  the  wit  nor  the  cun- 
ning of  Lazarillo ; but  that  he  should  venture  to  en- 
counter that  shrewd  little  beggar  in  any  way  makes 
Periquillo,  at  once,  a personage  of  some  consequence.'^® 
Yet  one  more  of  the  works  of  Santos  should  be  no- 
ticed ; an  allegorical  tale,  called  “ Truth  on  the  Rack, 
or  the  Cid  come  to  Life  again.”  Its  general  story  is, 
that  Truth,  in  the  form  of  a fair  woman,  is  placed  on 

46  Periquillo,  el  de  las  Galline-  as  a child,  he  was  employed  to  take 
ras,”  Madrid,  1668,  12mo.  He  gets  care  of  chickens, 
his  name  from  the  circumstance,  that, 


116 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


the  rack,  surrounded  by  the  Cid  and  other  forms,  that 
rise  from  the  earth  about  the  scaffold  on  which  she  is 
tormented.  There  she  is  forced  to  give  an  account  of 
things  as  they  really  exist,  or  have  existed,  and  to  dis- 
course concerning  shadowy  multitudes,  who  pass,  in 
sight  of  the  company  that  surrounds  her,  over  what 
seems  to  be  a long  bridge.  The  whole  is,  therefore,  a 
satire  in  the  form  of  a vision,  but  its  character  is  con- 
sistently sustained  only  at  the  beginning  and  the  end. 
The  Cid,  however,  is  much  the  same  personage  through- 
out, — hold,  rough,  and  free-spoken.  He  is  heartily  dis- 
satisfied with  every  thing  he  finds  on  earth,  especially 
with  the  popular  traditions  and  ballads  about  himself, 
and  goes  back  to  his  grave  well  pleased  to  escape  from 
such  a world, ‘ “ which,”  he  says,  “if  they  would  give  it 
to  me  to  live  in,  I would  not  accept.” 

Other  works  of  Santos,  like  “ The  Devil  let  loose,  or 
Truths  of  the  other  World  dreamed  about  in  this,”  and 
“ The  Live  Man  and  the  Dead  One,”  are  of  the  same 
sort  with  the  last;^®  while  yet  others  run  even  more  to 
allegory,  like  his  “ Tarascas  de  Madrid,”^®  and  his  “ Gi- 


47  “El  Verdad  en  el  Potro  y el  Cid 
Resuscitado,”  Madrid,  1679, 12mo,  and 
again,  1686.  The  ballads  cited  or  re- 
peated in  this  volume,  as  the  popular 
ballads  sung  in  the  streets  in  honor  of 
the  Cid,  are,  it  is  curious  to  observe, 
not  always  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
Romanceros.  Thus,  the  one  on  the 
insult  to  the  Cid’s  father  begins,  — 

Dieffo  Lainez.  el  padre 
De  Rodrigo  el  Castellano, 

Cuidando"^ en  la  mengua  grande 
Hecha  a un  liombre  de  su  grado,  etc. 

p.  9,  ed.  1686. 

It  is  quite  different  from  the  ballad 
on  the  same  subject  in  any  of  the  bal- 
lad-books. So  is  the  one  at  p.  33, 
upon  the  death  of  Count  Lozano,  as 
well  as  the  one  at  p.  105,  upon  the 
Cid’s  insult  to  the  Pope  at  Rome.  On 
hearing  the  last  sung  in  the  streets. 


the  Cid  is  made,  in  the  story,  to  cry 
out,  “Is  it  pretended  I was  ever 
guilty  of  such  effrontery?  I,  whom 
God  made  a Castilian,  — I treat  the 
great  Shepherd  of  the  Church  so  ? — 
I be  guilty  of  such  folly?  By  St. 
Peter,  St.  Paul,  and  St.  Lazarus,  with 
whom  I held  converse  on  earth,  you 
lie,  base  ballad-singer  ! ” Several 
ballads  might  be  taken  from  this  vol- 
ume and  added  even  to  the  “ Roman- 
cero  del  Cid,”  Keller,  Stuttgard, 
1840,  which  is  the  most  ample  of  all 
the  collections  on  the  Cid. 

“58  “ El  Diablo  anda  Suelto,”  (IMa- 
drid,  1677,)  and  “ El  Vivo  y el  Di- 
funto,”  (1692,)  are  both  very  curious 
fictions. 

49  “ Las  Tarascas  de  Madrid  y Tri- 
bunal Espantoso,”  Madrid,  1664,  A^a- 
lencia,  1694,  etc.  “ La  Tarasca  de 


Chap.  XXXVI.]  LARGE  NUMBER  OF  TALES  IN  SPANISH.  117 

gantones,”“°  suggested  by  the  huge  and  unsightly  forms 
led  about  to  amuse  or  to  frighten  the  multitude  in  the 
annual  processions  of  the  Corpus  Christ! ; — the  satirical 
interpretation  he  gives  to  them  being,  that  worse  mon- 
sters than  the  Tarascas  might  be  seen  every  day  in  ISIa- 
drid  by  those  who  could  distinguish  the  sin  and  folly 
that  always  thronged  the  streets  of  that  luxurious  capi- 
tal. But  though  such  satires  were  successful  when 
they  first  appeared,  they  have  long  since  ceased  to  be 
so ; partly  because  they  ahound  in  allusions  to  local  cir- 
cumstances now  known  only  to  the  curiosity  of  antiqua- 
rians, and  partly  because,  in  all  respects,  they  depict  a 
state  of  society  and  manners  of  which  hardly  a vestige 
remains. 

Santos  is  the  last  of  the  writers  of  Spanish  tales  pre- 
vious to  the  eighteenth  century  that  needs  to  be  no- 
ticed.®^ But  though  the  number  Ave  have  gone  over  is 
large  for  the  length  of  the  period  in  Avhich  they  appear- 
ed, not  a feAV  others  might  be  added.  The  pastoral  ro- 
mances from  the  time  of  IMontemayor  are  full  of  them  ; 
— the  “ Galatea  ” of  Cervantes,  and  the  “ Arcadia  ” of 
Lope  de  Vega,  being  little  more  than  a series  of  such 
stories,  slightly  bound  together  by  yet  another  that  con- 
nects them  all.  So  are,  to  a certain  degree,  the  pica- 
resque fictions,  like  “ Guzman  de  Alfarache  ” and  “ Mar- 
cos de  Obregon  ” ; — and  so  are  such  serious  fictions  as 
“The  Wars  of  Granada”  and  “The  Spanish  Gerardo.” 
The  popular  drama,  too,  was  near  akin  to  the  whole ; as 


Parto  en  el  Meson  del  Infierno  y Dias 
de  Fiestas  por  la  Noche,”  Madrid, 
1671,  Valencia,  1694,  are  again  inter- 
esting, partly  because  they  contain  an- 
ecdotes and  sketches  that  serve  to  ex- 
plain the  popular  religious  theatre. 

50  “ Los  Gigan tones  de  Madrid  por 
defuera,”  Madrid,  1666,  12mo. 


51  The  Spanish  tales  of  the  middle 
and  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury are  much  infected  with  the  false 
taste  of  cuUismo ; no  portion  of  Span- 
ish literature  more  so.  As  we  ap- 
proach the  end  of  the  century,  not 
one,  I think,  is  free  from  it. 


118 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  Tiinoneda,  whose  stories, 
before  he  produced  them  as  tales,  had  already  been 
exhibited  in  the  form  of  farces  on  the  rude  stage  of 
the  public  squares ; and  in  the  case  of  Cervantes,  who 
not  only  put  part  of  his  tale  of  “ The  Captive  ” in  “ Don 
Quixote  ” into  his  second  play  of  “ Life  in  Algiers,”  but 
constructed  his  story  of  “ The  Liberal  Lover  ” almost 
wholly  out  of  his  earlier  play  on  the  same  subject.  In- 
deed, Spain,  during  the  period  we  have  gone  over,  was 
full  of  the  spirit  of  this  class  of  fictions,  — not  only  pro- 
ducing them  in  great  numbers,  and  strongly  marked 
with  the  popular  character,  but  carrying  their  tone  into 
the  longer  romances  and  upon  the  stage  to  a degree 
quite  unknown  elsewhere.^ 

The  most  striking  circumstance,  however,  connected 
with  the  history  of  all  romantic  fiction  in  Spain, — 
whatever  form  it  assumed,  — is  its  early  appearance, 
and  its  early  decay.  The  story  of  “ Amadis  ” filled  the 
world  with  its  fame,  when  no  other  Spanish  prose  ro- 
mance of  chivalry  was  heard  of ; and,  what  is  singular, 
though  the  oldest  of  its  class,  it  still  remains  the  best- 
written  m any  language;  — while,  on  the  other  hand,  the 


52  Italy  is  the  only  country  that  can 
enter  into  competition  with  Spain  in 
the  department  of  tales,  during  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries. 
Indeed,  I am  not  certain,  considering 
the  short  period  (a  little  more  than  a 
century)  during  which  Spanish  tales 
were  fashionable,  that  as  many  in  pro- 
portion were  not  produced  as  were  pro- 
duced of  Italian  tales  in  Italy  during 
the  long  period  — four  centuries  and  a 
half  — in  which  they  have  now  been 
prevalent  there.  And  if,  to  the  Span- 
ish tales  found  in  books  professing  and 
not  professing  to  be  collections  of  them, 
we  add  the  thousands  used  up  in  Span- 
ish dramas,  to  which  the  elder  Italian 
theatre  olfers  no  counterpart,  I suppose 


there  can  hardly  be  a doubt  that  there 
are  really  more  Spanish  fictions  of 
this  class  in  existence  'than  there  arc 
Italian.  If,  however,  we  were  to  set- 
tle the  point  only  by  a comparison  of 
the  meagre  and  imperfect  catalogues 
of  Spanish  stories  in  Antonio’s  Bib- 
liotheca with  the  admirably  complete 
one  of  Italian  stories  in  the  “ Bibli- 
ografia  delle  Novelle  Italiane,”  by 
Gamba,  we  should  settle  it  differently. 
But,  in  any  event,  when  speaking  of 
the  Italian  novelle,  we  should  remem- 
ber, that,  until  very  lately,  the  whole 
spirit  and  power  of  fiction  in  Italy,  so 
to  speak,  have  been  taken  from  the 
theatre  and  romances,  and  cast  into 
these  short  tales. 


Chap.  XXXVI.]  EARLY  SUCCESS  AND  FAILURE. 


119 


book  that  overthrew  this  same  Amadis,  with  all  his 
chivalry,  is  the  “ Don  Quixote  ” ; again,  the  oldest  and 
best  of  all  similar  works,  and  one  that  is  still  read  and 
admired  by  thousands  who  know  nothing  of  the  shad- 
owy multitudes  it  destroyed,  except  what  its  great  au- 
thor tells  them.  The  “ Conde  Lucanor  ” appeared  full 
half  a century  earlier  than  the  “ Decamerone.”  The 
“ Diana  ” of  Montemayor  soon  eclipsed  its  Italian  pro- 
totype in  popularity,  and,  for  a time,  shone  without  a 
successful  rival  of  its  class  throughout  Europe.  The 
picaresque  stories,  exclusively  Spanish  from  the  very 
first,  and  the  multitudes  of  tales  that  followed  them  with 
attributes  hardly  less  separate  and  national,  never  lose 
their  Spanish  air  and  costume,  even  in  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  their  foreign  imitations.  Taken  together,  the 
number  of  these  fictions  is  very  great ; — so  great,  that 
their  mass  may  well  be  called  enormous.  But  what  is 
more  remarkable  than  their  multitude  is  the  fact,  that 
they  were  produced  when  the  rest  of  Europe,  with  a par- 
tial exception  in  favor  of  Italy,  was  not  yet  awakened  to 
corresponding  efforts  of  the  imagination;  before  Mad- 
ame de  Lafayette  had  published  her  “ Zayde  ” ; before 
Sidney’s  “ Arcadia  ” had  appeared,  or  D’Urfe’s  “ As- 
trea,”  or  Corneille’s  “ Cid,”  or  Le  Sage’s  “ Gil  Bias.” 
In  short,  they  were  at  the  height  of  their  fame,  just 
at  the  period  when  the  Hotel  de  Bambouillet  reigned 
supreme  over  the  taste  of  France,  and  when  Hardy,  fol- 
lowing the  indications  of  the  public  will  and  the  exam- 
ple of  his  rivals,  could  do  no  better  than  bring  out  upon 
the  stage  of  Paris  nearly  every  one  of  the  tales  of  Cer- 
vantes, and  many  of  those  of  Cervantes’s  rivals  and 
contemporaries.®^ 


53  Puibusque,  Histoire  Comparee,  Tom.  11.  c.  3. 


120 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


But  civilization  and  manners  advanced  in  the  rest  of 
Europe  rapidly  from  this  moment,  and  paused  in  Spain. 
Madrid,  instead  of  sending  its  influences  to  France,  be- 
gan itself  to  acknowledge  the  control  of  French  liter- 
ature and  refinement.  The  creative  spirit,  therefore, 
ceased  in  Spanish  romantic  fiction,  and,  as  we  shall  pres- 
ently see,  a spirit  of  French  imitation  took  its  place. 


CHAPTEE  XXXVII. 


Eloquence,  Forensic  and  Pulpit.  — Luis  de  Leon.  — Luis  de  Granada, 
— Paravicino  and  the  School  of  B.\d  Taste.  — Epistolary  Cor- 
respondence. — Zurita.  — Perez.  — Santa  Teresa.  — Argensola. — 
Lope  de  Vega.  — Quevedo. — Cascades. — Antonio.  — Solis. 


We  shall  hardly  look  for  forensic  or  deliberative 
eloquence  in  Spain.  The  whole  constitution  of  things 
there,  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  institutions  of  the 
country,  and,  perhaps  we  should  add,  the  very  genius 
of  the  people,  were  unfriendly  to  the  growth  of  a plant 
like  this,  which  flourishes  only  in  the  soil  of  freedom. 

The  Spanish  tribunals,  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
centuries,  whether  in  the  ordinary  course  of  their  ad- 
ministration of  justice,  or  in  the  dark  proceedings 
of  the  Inquisition,  took  less  cognizance  of  the  influ- 
ences of  eloquence  than  those  of  any  other  Christian 
country  of  modern  times.  They  dealt  with  the  wheel 
and  the  fagot,  — not  with  the  spirit  of  persuasion. 
Nor  was  this  spirit  truly  known  or  favored  in  the  polit- 
ical assemblies  of  the  kingdom,  though  it  was  not  sup- 
planted there  by  the  formidable  instruments  familiar  in 
the  courts  of  justice.  In  the  ancient  Cortes  of  Castile, 
and  still  more  in  those  of  Aragon,  there  may  have  been 
discussions  which  Avere  raised  by  their  fervor  to  some- 
thing like  Avhat  we  now  call  deliberative  eloquence. 
We  haA’e,  in  fact,  intimations  of  such  discussions  in  the 
old  chronicles ; especially  in  those  that  record  the  trou- 

VOL.  III.  16  K 


4 


122  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

bles  and  violence  of  the  great  nobles  in  the  reigns  of 
John  the  Second  and  Henry  the  Fourth.  But  a free, 
living  debate  on  a great  political  principle,  or  on  the 
conduct  of  those  who  managed  the  affairs  of  the  coun- 
try, — such  a debate  as  sometmies  shook  the  popular 
assemblies  of  antiquity,  and  in  modern  times  has  often 
controlled  the  destinies  of  Christendom, — was,  in  Spain, 
a thing  absolutely  unknown. 

Even  the  grave  and  dry  discussions,  to  which  the 
pressure  of  affairs  gave  rise,  were  rare  and  accidental. 
There  was  no  training  for  them ; and  they  could  be  fol- 
lowed by  none  of  the  great  practical  results  that  are 
at  once  the  only  sufficient  motive  and  reward  that  can 
make  them  enter  freely  into  the  institutions  of  a state. 
Indeed,  whatever  there  was  of  discussion  in  any  open 
assembly  could  occur  only  in  the  earlier  period  of  the 
monarchy,  when  the  language  and  culture  of  the  nation 
were  still  too  little  advanced  to  produce  specimens  of 
careful  debate ; for  from  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  and  the  days  of  the  Comunidades,  the  Cortes 
were  gradually  restrained  in  their  privileges,  until  at 
last  they  ceased  to  be  any  thing  but  a part  of  the  pa- 
geantry of  the  empire,  and  served  only  to  record  the 
laws  they  should  themselves  have  discussed  and  model- 
led. From  this  period,  all  opportunity  for  the  growth 
of  political  eloquence  in  Spain  was  lost.  It  would  have 
been  no  more  tolerated  by  one  of  the  Philips  than  Lu- 
theranism. 

The  eloquence  of  the  pulpit  was  checked  by  similar 
causes,  but  in  a different  way.  The  Catholic  religion 
has  maintained  in  Spain,  down  to  a late  period,  more 
than  it  has  in  any  other  country,  the  character  it  had 
during  the  Middle  Ages.  It  has  been  to  an  extraor- 
dinary degree  a religion  of  mysteries,  of  forms,  and  of 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


LUIS  DE  GRANADA. 


123 


penance ; — a religion,  therefore,  in  which  such  modes 
of  moving  the  understanding  and  the  heart  as  have 
prevailed  in  France  and  England  since  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century  have  been  rarely  attempted, 
and  never  with  great  success. 

If  any  exception  is  to  be  made  to  this  remark,  it  must 
be  made  in  the  case  of  Luis  de  Leon  and  in  that  of 
Luis  de  Granada.  Of  the  first  we  have  already  spoken. 
He  printed,  indeed,  no  sermons  as  such ; but  he  inserted 
in  his  other  works,  and  especially  in  his  “ Names  of 
Christ  ” and  in  his  “ Perfect  Wife,”  long  declama- 
tions, sometimes  preceded  by  a text  and  sometimes  not, 
but  regularly  divided  into  heads,  and  wearing  the  gen- 
eral appearance  and  attributes  of  religious  discourses. 
These,  since  they  were  printed  as  early  as  1584,  may  be 
accounted  the  earliest  specimens  of  Spanish  eloquence 
fitted  for  the  pulpit,  and,  if  not  actually  delivered,  are 
still  worthy  of  notice.* 

The  case  of  Luis  de  Granada  is  one  more  directly  in 
point.  That  remarkable  man  was  head  of  the  Domini- 
can order,  or  the  order  of  the  Preaching  Monk?,  so  that 
both  his  place  and  his  profession  led  him  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit.  But,  besides  this, 
he  seems  to  have  devoted  himself  to  it  with  the  strong- 
preference  of  genius,  preaching  extemporaneously,  it  is 
said,  with  great  power  and  unction.  In  1576,  he  pub- 
lished a Latin  treatise  on  the  subject  of  Pulpit  Elo- 
quence; and  in  1595,  after  his  death,  his  friends  printed, 
in  addition  to  those  published  during  his  lifetime,  four- 
teen of  his  more  formal  discourses,  in  which  he  has 
been  thought,  not  only  to  have  given  a full  illustration 

1 The  most  remarkable,  and  per-  Christ”;  the  text  being  from  Isaiah, 
haps  the  most  beautiful,  specimen  is  ix.  6:  “The  everlasting  Father.” 
in  the  first  book  of  “ The  Names  of 


124  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

of  the  precepts  he  inculcated,  but  to  have  placed  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  department  of  eloquence  to 
which  he  devoted  so  much  of  his  life. 

They  are  in  a bold  and  affluent  style,  — somewhat 
mystical,  as  were  his  oivn  religious  tendencies,  — and 
often  more  declamatory  than  seems  in  keeping  with  the 
severe  and  solemn  nature  of  their  subjects;  but  they  are 
written  with  remarkable  purity  of  idiom,  and  breathe 
everywhere  the  spirit  of  the  religion  that  was  so  deeply 
impressed  on  his  age  and  country.  Perhaps  a more 
characteristic  specimen  of  Spanish  eloquence  can  hardly 
be  found,  than  that  in  which  Luis  de  Granada  describes 
the  resurrection  of  the  Saviour ; adding  to  it  his  descent 
into  hell  to  rescue  the  souls  of  the  righteous  who  were 
pining  there  because  they  had  died  before  his  great 
sacrifice  was  completed,  — a doctrine  of  the  Catholic 
Church  capable  of  high  poetical  ornament,  and  one 
which,  from  the  time  of  Dante,  has  been  often  set  forth 
with  the  most  solemn  effect. 

“ On  that  glorious  day,”  exclaims  Luis  de  Granada, 
in  his  sermon  on  the  Eesurrection,  “ the  sun  shone  more 
brightly  than  on  all  others,  serving  its  Lord  in  dutiful 
splendor  amidst  his  rejoicings,  as  it  had  served  him  in 
darkness  through  his  sufferings.  The  heavens,  which 
had  been  veiled  in  mourning  to  hide  his  agonies,  were 
now  bright  with  redoubled  glory  as  they  saw  him  rise 
conquering  from  the  grave.  And  who  would  not  re- 
joice in  such  a dayl  The  whole  humanity  of  Christ 
rejoiced  in  it;  all  the  disciples  of  Christ  rejoiced  in  it; 
heaven  rejoiced,  earth  rejoiced;  hell  itself  shared  in  the 
general  jubilee.  For  the  triumphant  Prince  descended 
into  its  depths,  clothed  with  splendor  and  might.  The 
everlasting  darkness  grew  bright  before  his  steps;  the 
eternal  lamentations  ceased ; the  realms  of  torment 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


LUIS  DE  GRANADA. 


125 


paused  at  his  approach.  The  princes  of  Edom  were 
disturbed,  and  the  mighty  men  of  Moab  trembled,  and 
they  that  dwelt  in  the  land  of  Canaan  were  filled  with 
fear.  And  the  multitude  of  the  suffering  murmured  and 
said,  ‘ Who  is  this  mighty  one,  so  resplendent,  so  power- 
ful ? Never  before  was  his  likeness  seen  in  these  realms 
of  hell ; never  hath  the  tributary  world  sent  such  a 
one  to  these  depths,  — one  who  demands  judgment,  not 
a debtor;  one  who  fills  us  with  dread,  not  one  guilty 
like  ourselves ; a judge,  and  not  a culprit ; a conqueror, 
not  a sinner.  Say,  where  were  our  watchmen  and  our 
guards,  when  he  burst  in  victory  on  our  barred  gates  \ 
By  what  might  has  he  entered  % And  who  is  he,  that 
can  do  these  things'?  If  he  were  guilty,  he  were  not 
thus  bold;  if  the  shade  of  sin  lay  on  his  soul,  how 
could  our  darkness  be  made  bright  with  his  glory  ? If 
he  be  God,  why  should  hell  receive  him  ? and  if  he  be 
man,  whence  hath  he  this  might  \ If  he  be  God,  why 
dwelt  he  in  the  grave?  and  if  man,  by  what  authority 
Avould  he  thus  lay  waste  our  abodes  ? ’ 

“ Thus  murmured  the  vassals  of  hell,  as  the  Con- 
queror entered  in  glory  to  free  his  chosen  captives.  For 
there  stood  they,  all  assembled  together,  — all  the  souls 
of  the  just,  who  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  till 
that  day  had  passed  through  the  gates  of  the  grave ; all 
the  prophets  and  men  of  might  who  had  glorified  the 
Lord  in  the  manifold  agonies  of  martyrdom ; — a glo- 
rious company ! — a mighty  treasure  ! — the  richest  in- 
heritance of  Christ’s  triumph ! For  there  stood  the  two 
original  parents  of  the  generations  of  mankind,  — the 
first  in  sin  and  the  first  in  faith  and  hope.  There  stood 
that  aged  saint  who  rescued  in  the  ark  of  safety  those 
that  repeopled  the  world  when  the  waters  of  the  deluge 
were  spent.  There  stood  the  father  of  the  faithful. 


126  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

who  first  received  by  merit  the  revelation  of  God’s  will, 
and  wore,  in  his  person,  the  marks  of  his  election. 
There  stood  his  obedient  son,  who,  bearing  on  his 
shonlders  the  wood  of  his  own  sacrifice,  showed  forth 
the  redemption  of  the  world.  There  stood  the  holy  pro- 
genitor of  the  Twelve  Tribes,  who,  winning  his  father’s 
blessing  in  the  stranger  guise  of  another’s  garb,  set  forth 
the  mystery  of  the  humanity  and  incarnation  of  the  Di- 
vine Word.  There  stood,  also,  as  it  were,  guests  newly 
arrived  in  that  strange  land,  the  Holy  Baptist  and  the 
blessed  Simeon,  Avho  prayed  that  he  might  not  be  taken 
from  the  earth  till  with  his  own  eyes  he  had  seen  its 
salvation;  who  received  it  in  his  arms,  and  sang  gen- 
tly its  canticle  of  peace.  And  there,  too,  found  a place 
the  poor  Lazarus  of  the  Gospel,  who,  for  the  patience 
with  which  he  bore  his  wounds,  deserved  to  join  so  no- 
ble a company,  and  share  its  longing  hopes.  And  all 
this  multitude  of  sanctified  spirits  stood  there  mourning 
and  grieving  for  this  day ; and  in  the  midst  of  them  all, 
and  as  the  leader  of  them  all,  the  holy  king  and  prophet 
repeated  without  ceasing  his  ancient  lamentation : ‘ As 
the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks,  so  panteth  my 
soul  after  thee,  O God ! My  tears  have  been  my  meat 
day  and  night,  while  they  continually  say  unto  me. 
Where  is  thy  God  1 ’ O blessed  and  holy  king,  if  this 
be  the  cause  of  thy  lamentation,  let  it  cease  for  ever ; for 
behold  thy  God ! behold  thy  Saviour ! Change,  then, 
thy  chant,  and  sing  as  thou  wast  wont  to  sing  of  old : 
‘ Lord,  thou  hast  been  favorable  unto  thy  land ; thou 
hast  pardoned  the  offences  of  thy  people ; thou  hast 
hidden  thy  face  from  the  multitude  of  their  sins.’  ” ^ 

- See  the  accounts  of  Luis  de  Gra-  1781, 2 tom.  8vo.  His  treatise  on  pul- 
nada  in  Antonio,  and  in  the  Preface  pit  eloquence,  entitled  “ Rhetoricse 
to  the  “ Guia  de  Pecadores,”  Madrid,  Ecclesiasticee,  sive  de  Ratione  Concio- 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


PARAVICmO. 


127 


It  would  not  be  easy  to  select  a more  striking  example 
than  this  of  the  peculiar  rhetoric  that  was  most  sought 
in  the  Spanish  pulpit.  But  the  portions  of  equal  merit 
are  few,  and  the  amount  of  the  whole  is  small.  After 
the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  affected 
style  of  Gongora  and  the  conceits  of  the  school  of  Le- 
desma found  their  way  into  the  churches  generally,  and 
especially  into  the  churches  of  Madrid.  This  was  nat- 
ural. No  persons  depended  more  on  the  voice  of  fashion 
than  the  preachers  of  the  court  and  the  capital,  and  the 
fashion  of  both  was  thoroughly  infected  with  the  new 
doctrines.  Paravicino,  at  this  period,  was  at  the  head 
of  the  popular  preachers ; himself  a poet  devoted  to 
the  affectations  of  Gongora ; a man  of  wit,  a gentleman, 
and  a courtier.  From  1616  he  was,  during  twenty 
years,  pulpit  orator  to  Philip  the  Third  and  Philip  the 
Fourth,  and  enjoyed,  as  such,  a kind  and  degree  of 
popularity  before  unknoum.  As  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, he  had  many  followers,  each  of  whom  sought  to 
have  a fashionable  audience.  Such  audiences  were  soon 
systematically  j^rovided.  They  were,  in  fact,  collected, 
arranged,  and  seated  by  the  friends  and  admirers  of  the 
preacher  himself,  — generally  by  those  Avho,  from  their 
ecclesiastical  relations,  had  an  interest  in  his  success ; 
and  then  the  crowds  thus  gathered  Avere  induced  in  dif- 
ferent ways  to  express  their  approbation  of  the  mure 
elaborate  passages  in  his  discourse.  From  this  time, 
and  in  this  Avay,  religious  dignity  disappeared  from  the 
Spanish  pulpit,  and  Avhatever  there  Avas  of  value  in  its 
eloquence  was  confined  to  two  forms,  — the  learned 

nandi,  Libri  Sex,”  was  valued  in  other  tract  I have  translated  was  made,  one 
countries.  An  edition  of  it,  Cologne,  of  the  best  of  his  meditations,  that  en- 
1611,  12mo,  fills  above  500  closely  titled  “ De  la  Alegria  de  los  Santos 
printed  pages.  It  is  somewhat  re-  Padres,”  is  on  the  same  subject.  He 
markable,  that,  besides  the  sermon  on  was  born  in  1504,  and  died  in  1588. 
the  Resurrection,  from  which  the  ex- 


128  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE,  [Period  II. 

discussions,  often  in  Latin,  addressed  to  bodies  of  eccle- 
siastics, and  the  extemporaneous  exhortations  addressed 
to  the  lower  classes ; — the  latter  popular  and  vehement 
in  their  tone,  and,  by  their  coarseness,  generally  un- 
worthy of  the  solemn  subjects  they  touched.^ 

There  is  little  in  Spanish  epistolary  correspondence 
that  requires  notice  as  a portion  of  the  elegant  litera- 
ture of  the  country.  The  heartiness  of  a simpler  age 
gives,  indeed,  a charm  to  such  letters  as  those  which 
claim  to  have  been  written  by  Cibdareal,  and  in  a less 
degree  to  those  of  Pulgar  and  Diego  de  Valera.  Later, 
the  despatches  of  Columbus,  in  which  he  made  known  to 
the  world  his  vast  discoveries,  are  occasionally  marked 
by  the  fervor  of  an  enthusiasm  inspired  by  his  great  sub- 
ject ; and  those  of  his  queen  and  patron,  though  few  in 
number  and  less  interesting,  are  quite  as  characteristic 
and  quite  as  true-hearted. 

But,  with  the  stately  court  brought  from  the  North 
by  Charles  the  Fifth,  all  this  was  changed.  Added 
forms,  and  more  than  the  old  national  gravity,  passed 
into  the  intercourse  of  social  life,  and  infected  the  style 
of  the  commonest  correspondence.  Genial  familiarity 
disappeared  from  the  letters  of  friends,  and  even  private 
affections  and  feelings  were  either  seldom  expressed,  or 
Avere  so  covered  up  as  to  be  with  difficulty  recognized. 


3 For  Paravicino  and  his  school, 
see  Sedano,  (Parnaso  Espafiol,  Tom. 
V.  p.  xlviii.,)  Baena,  (Hijos  de  Ma- 
drid, Tom.  II.  p.  389,)  and  Antonio, 
(Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  612,)  who 
speaks  as  if  he  had  often  heard  Para- 
vicino’s  eloquence,  and  witnessed  its 
effects.  E contra  is  Figueroa,  who,  in 
his  “ Pasagero,”  (1617,  Alivio  IV.,) 
is  severe  upon  the  preachers  and  audi- 
ences of  Madrid.  The  fact,  however, 
that  Capmany,  in  his  five  important 


volumes  devoted  to  Spanish  eloquence, 
has  been  able  to  find  nothing  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  either  in  the  way 
of  forensic  orations  or  popular  pulpit 
eloquence,  with  which  to  fill  his  pages, 
hut  is  obliged  to  resort  to  the  eloquent 
prose  of  history  and  philosophy,  of 
ethics  and  religious  asceticism,  tells 
at  once,  in  a way  not  to  be  mistaken, 
the  tale  of  the  deficiencies  in  Castilian 
eloquence,  as  the  word  eloqumce  is 
understood  in  English. 


Chap.  XXXVIL]  EPISTOLARY  CORRESPONDENCE.  129 

Thus,  what  was  most  valued  in  this  department  at  the 
time,  and  for  a century  afterwards,  were  Guevara’s 
“ Golden  Epistles,”  which  are  only  formal  dissertations, 
and  the  “ Epistles  ” of  Avila,  which  are  sermons  in  dis- 
guise, that  moved  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen  because 
they  were  such  earnest  exhortations  to  a religious  life.'^ 
From  these  remarks,  however,  we  should  except  por- 
tions of  the  correspondence  of  Zurita,  the  historian,  ex- 
tending over  the  last  thirty  years  of  his  life,  and  ending 
in  1582,  just  before  his  death.  They  give  us  the  busi- 
ness-like intercourse  of  a man  of  letters,  carried  on  with 
all  classes  of  society,  from  ministers  of  state  and  the 
highest  ecclesiastics  of  the  realm  down  to  persons  dis- 
tinguished only  because  they  were  occupied  in  studies 
like  his  own.  The  number  of  letters  in  this  collection 
is  large,  amounting  to  above  two  hundred.  More  of 
them  are  from  Antonio  Agustin,  Archbishop  of  Tarra- 
gona, an  eminent  scholar  in  Spanish  history  and  civil 
law,  than  from  any  other  person;  but  the  most  interest- 
ing are  from  Zurita  himself,  from  his  friend  Ambrosio 
Morales,  from  Diego  de  Mendoza,  the  historian,  Argote 
de  Molina,  the  antiquarian,  and  Fenian  Nunez,  the  Greek 
Commander.  Each  of  these  series  is  marked  by  some- 
thing characteristic  of  its  author,  and  all  of  them,  taken 
together,  show  more  familiarly  the  interior  condition  of 
a scholar’s  life  in  Spain,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  than 
it  can  be  found  anywhere  else.'^ 


These  writers  have  all  been  men- 
tioned earlier,  (see,  ante,  Vol.  I.  pp. 
395,  540,  543,)  except  Queen  Isa- 
bella, whose  letters  are  best  found  in 
Clemencin's  excellent  work  on  her 
character  and  times,  filling-  the  sixth 
volume  of  the  “ Memorias  de  la  Aca- 
demia de  la  Historia.”  They  are  ad- 
dressed to  her  confessor,  Hernando  de 
Talavera,  and  strongly  illustrate  both 
her  prudence  and  her  submission  to 

VOL.  in.  17 


ecclesiastical  influences.  (See  pp.  351 
-383.)  Several  letters  addressed  to 
Columbus,  and  marked  with  her  spirit 
rather  than  that  of  her  husband,  though 
signed  by  both  of  them,  may  be  seen 
in  the  second  volume  of  Navarrete, 
(Viages,  etc.,)  which  is  rich  in  such 
curious  documents. 

^ The  correspondence  of  Zurita  and 
his  friends  is  to  be  sought  in  the 
“ Progresos  de  la  Historia  en  el  Rey- 


130  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

But  the  principal  exception  to  be  made  in  favor  of 
Spanish  epistolary  correspondence  is  found  in  the  case 
of  Antonio  Perez,  secretary  of  Philip  the  Second,  and 
for  some  time  his  favorite  minister.  His  father,  who 
was  a scholar,  and  made  a translation  of  the  “ Odys- 
sey,” ® had  been  in  the  employment  of  Charles  the  Fifth, 
so  that  the  younger  Perez  inherited  somewhat  of  the 
court  influence  which  was  then  so  important;  but  his 
rapid  advancement  was  owing  to  his  own  genius,  and  to 
a love  of  intrigue  and  adventure,  which  seemed  to  be  a 
part  of  his  nature.  At  last,  in  1578,  at  the  command 
of  his  master,  he  not  unwillingly  brought  about  the 
murder  of  Escovedo,  a person  high  in  the  confidence  of 
Don  John  of  Austria,  whose  growing  influence  it  was 
thought  worth  while  thus  to  curtail ; — a crime  which, 
perpetrated  as  it  was  in  consequence  of  the  official  con- 
nection of  the  secretary  with  the  monarch,  brought  Pe- 
rez to  the  very  height  of  his  favor. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  the  guilty  agent  became 
as  unwelcome  to  his  guilty  master  as  their  victim  had 
been.  A change  in  their  relations  followed,  cautiously 
brought  on  by  the  unscrupulous  king,  but  deep  and  en- 
tire. At  first,  Philip  permitted  Perez  to  be  pursued  by 
the  kinsmen  of  the  murdered  man,  and  afterwards,  con- 
triving plausible  pretexts  for  hiding  his  motives,  began 
himself  to  join  in  the  persecution.  Eleven  long  years 


no  de  Aragon,”  by  Diego  Josef  Dor- 
mer, (Zaragoza,  1680,  folio,)  and  espe- 
cially pp.  362-563,  which  are  entire- 
ly given  up  to  it. 

6 “ LatJlyxeadeHomero,”etc.,por 
Gonzalo  Perez,  (Venecia,  1553,  18mo,) 
is  in  blank  verse ; but  in  this  edition 
we  have  only  the  first  thirteen  books, 
with  a dedication  to  Philip  the  Prince, 
whose  chief  secretary  Gonzalo  Perez 
then  w’as,  as  his  son  Antonio  was  af- 
terwards secretary  of  the  same  Philip 


on  the  throne.  Subsequently,  when 
he  had  translated  the  remaining  eleven 
books,  he  dedicated  the  whole  anew  to 
Philip  as  king,  (Anvers,  1556, 12mo,) 
correcting  and  amending  the  first  part 
carefully.  Lope  de  Vega  (in  his  Do- 
rotea,  Acto  IV.  sc.  3)  praises  the 
version  of  Perez ; but,  like  most  of 
the  Spanish  translations  from  the 
ancients  in  the  sixteenth  century,  it 
shows  little  of  the  spirit  of  the  origi- 
nal. 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


ANTONIO  PEREZ. 


131 


the  wretched  courtier  was  watched,  vexed,  and  impris- 
oned, at  Madrid ; and  once,  at  least,  he  w^as  subjected  to 
cruel  bodily  tortures.  When  he  could  endure  this  no 
longer,  he  fled  to  Aragon,  his  native  kingdom,  whose 
freer  political  constitution  did  not  permit  him  to  be 
crushed  in  secret.  This  was  a great  surprise  to  Philip, 
and,  for  an  instant,  seems  to  have  disconcerted  his  dark 
schemes.  But  his  resources  were  equal  to  the  emergen- 
cy. He  pursued  Perez  to  Saragossa,  and  flnding  the 
regular  means  of  justice  unequal  to  the  demands  of  his 
vengeance,  caused  his  victim  to  be  seized  by  the  Inqui- 
sition, under  the  absurd  charge  of  heresy.  But  this, 
again,  in  the  form  in  which  Philip  found  it  necessary  to 
proceed,  was  a violation  of  the  ancient  privileges  of  the 
kingdom,  and  the  people  broke  out  into  open  rebellion, 
and  released  Perez  from  prison ; — a consequence  of  his 
measures,  which,  perhaps,  was  neither  unforeseen  by 
Philip  nor  unwelcome  to  him.  At  any  rate,  he  imme- 
diately sent  an  army  into  Aragon,  suflicient,  not  only  to 
overwhelm  all  open  resistance,  but  to  strike  a terror 
that  should  prevent  future  opposition  to  his  will ; and 
the  result,  besides  a vast  number  of  rich  conflscations  to 
the  royal  treasury,  was  the  condemnation  of  sixty-eight 
persons  of  distinction  to  death  by  the  Inquisition,  and 
the  final  overthroAV  of  nearly  every  thing  that  remain- 
ed of  the  long-cherished  liberties  of  the  country. 

Meantime,  Perez  escaped  secretly  from  Saragossa,  as 
he  had  before  escaped  from  Madrid,  and,  wandering 
over  the  Pyrenees  in  the  disguise  of  a shepherd,  sought 
refuge  in  Bearn,  at  the  little  court  of  Catherine  of 
Bourbon,  sister  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  Public  policy 
caused  him  to  be  well  received  both  there  and  in 
France,  where  he  afterwards  passed  the  greater  part  of 
his  long  exile.  During  the  troubles  between  Elizabeth 


132  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

and  Philip,  he  instinctively  went  to  England,  and,  while 
there,  was  much  with  Essex,  and  became  more  familiar 
with  Bacon  than  the  wise  and  pious  mother  of  the 
future  chancellor  thought  it  well  one  so  profligate  as 
Perez  should  be.  Philip,  who  could  ill  endure  the  idea 
of  having  such  a witness  of  his  crimes  intriguing  at 
the  courts  of  his  great  enemies,  endeavoured  to  have 
Perez  assassinated  both  in  Paris  and  London,  and  failed 
more  from  accident  than  from  want  of  well-concerted 
plans  to  accomplish  his  object. 

At  last  peace  came  between  France  and  England  on 
one  side,  and  Spain  on  the  other;  and  Perez  ceased  to  be 
a person  of  consequence  to  those  who  had  so  long  used 
him.  Henry  the  Fourth,  indeed,  with  his  customary' 
good  nature,  still  indulged  him  even  in  very  extravagant 
modes  of  life,  which  rather  resembled  those  of  a prince 
than  of  an  exile.  But  his  claims  were  so  unreasonable, 
and  Avere  urged  Avith  such  boldness  and  pertinacity,  that 
every  body  wearied  of  him.  He  therefore  fell  into 
unhonored  poverty,  and  dragged  out  the  miserable  life 
of  a neglected  courtier  till  1611,  when  he  died  at  Paris. 
Four  years  later,  the  Inquisition,  Avhich  had  caused  him 
to  be  burnt  in  etfigy  as  a heretic,  reluctantly  did  him 
the  imperfect  justice  of  removing  their  anathemas  from 
his  memory,  and  thus  permitted  his  children  to  enter 
into  civil  rights,  of  Avhich  nothing  but  the  most  shame- 
less violence  had  eA^er  deprived  them. 

From  the  time  of  his  first  imprisonment,  Perez  began 
to  write  the  letters  that  are  still  extant;  and  their 
series  never  stops,  till  Ave  approach  the  period  of  his 
death.  Some  of  them  are  to  his  Avife  and  children ; 
others,  to  Gil  de  Mesa,  his  confidential  friend  and  agent; 
and  others,  to  persons  high  in  place,  from  whose  influ- 
ence he  hoped  to  gain  favor.  His  Narratives,  or  “ Re- 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


ANTONIO  PEREZ. 


133 


lations,”  as  he  calls  them,  and  his  “ Memorial  ” on  his 
own  case,  occasionally  involve  other  letters,  and  are 
themselves  in  the  nature  of  long  epistles,  written  with 
great  talent  and  still  greater  ingenuity,  to  gain  the  favor 
of  his  judges  or  of  the  world.  All  these,  some  of  which 
his  position  forbade  him  ever  to  send  to  the  persons  to 
whom  they  were  addressed,  he  carefully  preserved,  and 
during  his  exile  published  them  from  time  to  time  to 
suit  his  own  political  purposes ; — at  tirst  anonjunously, 
or  under  the  assumed  name  of  Raphael  Peregrine ; after- 
wards under  the  seeming  editorship  of  his  friend  Mesa ; 
and  finally,  without  disguise  of  any  sort,  dedicating 
some  of  them  to  Henry  the  Fourth,  and  some  to  the 
Pope. 

Their  number  is  large,  amounting  in  the  most  ample 
collection  to  above  a thousand  pages.  The  best  are 
those  that  are  most  familiar ; for  even  in  the  slightest 
of  them,  as  when  he  is  sending  a present  of  gloves  to 
Lady  Rich,  or  a few  new-fashioned  toothpicks  to  the 
Duke  of  Mayenne,  there  is  a nice  preservation  of  the 
Castilian  proprieties  of  expression.  Many  of  them  spar- 
kle with  genius ; sometimes  most  unexpectedly,  though 
not  always  in  good  taste.  Thus,  to  his  innocent  wife, 
shamefully  kept  in  prison  during  his  exile,  he  says: 
“ Though  you  are  not  allowed  to  write  to  me,  or  to  en- 
joy what  to  the  absent  is  the  breath  of  life ; yet  here 
[in  France]  there  is  no  punishment  for  the  promptings 
of  natural  affection.  I answer,  therefore,  what  I hear 
in  the  spirit,  your  complaints  of  the  punishment  laid 
on  your  own  virtues  and  on  the  innocence  of  your  chil- 
dren, — complaints,  which  reach  me  from  that  asylum 
of  darkness  and  of  the  shadow  of  death,  in  which  you 
now  lie.  But  when  I listen,  it  seems  as  if  I ought  to 
hear  you  no  less  with  my  outward  ears,  just  as  the 


L 


134 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 


words  and  cries  that  come  from  the  caves  under  the 
earth  only  resound  the  louder,  as  they  are  rolled  up  to 
us  from  their  dark  hiding-places.”  ’’  And  again,  when 
speaking  of  the  cruel  conduct  of  his  judges  to  his  fam- 
ily, he  breaks  out : “ But  let  them  not  be  deceived. 
Their  victims  may  be  imprisoned  and  loaded  with  irons ; 
but  they  have  the  two  mightiest  advocates  of  the  earth 
to  defend  them,  — their  innocence  and  their  wrongs. 
For  neither  could  Cicero  nor  Demosthenes  so  pierce  the 
ears  of  men,  nor  so  stir  up  their  minds,  nor  so  shake 
the  frame  of  things,  as  can  these  two,  to  whom  God  has 
given  the  especial  privilege  to  stand  for  ever  in  his  pres- 
ence, to  cry  for  justice,  and  to  be  witnesses  and  advocates 
for  one  another  in  whatsoever  he  has  reserved  for  his 
own  awful  judgment.”  ® 

The  letters  of  Perez  are  in  a great  variety  of  styles, 
from  the  cautious  and  yet  fervent  appeals  that  he  made 
to  Philip  the  Second,  down  to  the  gallant  notes  he 
wrote  to  court  ladies,  and  the  overflowings  of  his  heart 
to  his  young  children.  But  they  are  all  written  in 
remarkably  idiomatic  Castilian,  and  are  rendered  inter- 
esting from  the  circumstance,  that  in  each  class  there 
is  a strict  observance  of  such  conventional  forms  as 
were  required  by  the  relative  social  positions  of  the 
author  and  his  correspondents.® 


Obras,  Genevra,  1654,  12mo,  p. 
1073. 

8 Ibid.,  p.  96. 

9 The  first  publication  of  Perez,  I 
think,  is  the  one  made  at  Lyons,  with- 
out date,  but  supposed  to  be  of  1598,  and 
entitled  “ Pedacos  de  Historia,”  etc. ; 
but,  the  same  yGr,  the  contents  of  this 
volume  were  reprinted  at  Paris,  with 
the  more  appropriate  title  of  “Rela- 
ciones.”  Perez  seems  to  have  amused 
himself  with  publishing  different  por- 
tions of  his  works  at  different  times 


and  in  different  places ; but  the  most 
complete  collection  is  that  of  Geneva, 
1654,  12mo,  pp.  1126.  His  life  is 
admirably  discussed  by  M.  Mignet,  in 
his  “Antonio  Perez  et  Philippe  11.’’ 
(2de  edit.,  Paris,  1846).  The  work  of 
Salvador  Bermudez  de  Castro,  entitled 
“ Antonio  Perez,  Estudios  Histori- 
cos,”  (Madrid,  1841,  8vo,)  would  be 
better  worth  reading  if  the  author  had 
not  permitted  himself  to  indulge  in 
fictions,  such  as  ballad  poetry,  which 
he  calls  the  poetry  of  Perez,  aiwS 


Chap.  XXXVII.] 


SANTA  TERESA. 


135 


The  letters  of  Santa  Teresa,  who  was  a contemporary 
of  the  secretary  of  Philip  the  Second,  and  died  in  1582, 
are  entirely  different ; for  while  nothing  can  be  more 
practical  and  worldly  than  those  of  Perez,  the  letters  of 
the  devout  nun  are  entirely  spiritual.  She  believed  her- 
self to  be  inspired,  and  therefore  wrote  with  an  air  of 
authority,  which  is  almost  always  solemn  and  imposing, 
but  which  sometimes,  through  its  very  boldness  and 
freedom  from  all  restraint,  becomes  easy  and  graceful. 
Her  talents  were  versatile  and  her  perceptions  acute. 
To  each  of  her  many  correspondents  she  says  something 
that  seems  suited  to  the  occasion  on  which  she  is  con- 
sulted ; — a task  not  easy  for  a nun,  who  lived  forty- 
seven  years  in  retirement  from  the'  world,  and  during 
that  time  was  called  upon  to  give  advice  to  archbishops 
and  bishops,  to  wise  and  able  statesmen  like  Diego  de 
Mendoza,  to  men  of  genius  like  Luis  de  Granada,  to 
persons  in  private  life  who  were  in  deep  affliction  or  in 
great  danger,  and  to  women  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
their  daily  lives.  Her  letters  fill  four  volumes,  and 
though,  in  general,  they  are  only  to  be  regarded  as 
fervent  exhortations  or  religious  teachings,  still,  by  the 


which  he  gives  as  part  of  the  means 
Perez  used  to  stir  up  the  people  of 
Saragossa,  but  which  is,  no  doubt, 
the  work  of  Castro  himself.  The 
lives  of  Perez  in  Baena  (Tom.  I., 
1789,  p.  121)  and  Latassa  (Bib.  Nov., 
Tom.  II.,  1799,  p.  108)  show  how 
afraid  men  of  letters  were,  as  late  as 
the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  to 
approach  any  subject  thus  connected 
with  royalty.  The  works  of  Perez  are 
strictly  forbidden  by  the  Index  Ex- 
purgatorius  of  the  Inquisition  to  the 
last,  — in  1790  and  1805.  The  letters 
of  Perez  to  Essex  are  in  pretty  good 
Latin,  and  out  of  his  Spanish  works 
there  were  early  made  two  or  three 


collections  of  very  acute  and  striking 
aphorisms,  which  have  been  several 
times  printed.  There  are  many  MS. 
letters  of  Perez  at  the  Hague  and 
elsewhere,  referred  to  by  Mignet,  and 
there  is  in  the  Royal  Library  at  Paris 
an  important  political  treatise  which 
bears  his  name,  but  which,  though 
strongly  marked  with  his  acuteness 
and  brilliancy,  Ochoa  hesitates  to  at- 
tribute to  him.  It  is,  however,  I doubt 
not,  his.  (See  Ochoa,  Manuscritos  Es- 
panoles,  pp.  158-166;  and  Semina- 
rio  Erudito,  Tom.  VIII.  pp.  245  and 
250.)  Further  accounts  of  Perez  are 
to  be  found  in  Llorente,  Tom.  III.  pp. 
316-375. 


136 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


purity,  beauty,  and  womanly  grace  of  their  style,  they 
may  fairly  claim  a distinguished  place  in  the  episto- 
lary literature  of  her  country. 

Some  portions  of  the  correspondence  of  Bartolome  de 
Argensola  about  1625,  of  Lope  de  Vega  before  1630, 
and  of  Quevedo  a little  later,  have  been  preserved  to  us ; 
but  they  are  too  inconsiderahle  in  amount  to  have  much 
value.  Of  Cascales,  the  rhetorician,  we  have  more.  In 
1634,  he  printed  three  Decades  of  Letters ; but  they  are 
almost  entirely  devoted  to  discussions  of  points  that  in- 
volve learned  lore ; and,  even  where  they  are  not  such, 
they  are  stiff  and  formal.  A few  by  Nicolas  Antonio,  the 
literary  historian,  who  died  in  1684,  are  plain  and  busi- 
ness-like, but  are  written  in  a hard  style,  that  prevents 
them  from  being  interesting.  Those  of  Solis,  who  closes 
up  the  century  and  the  period,  are  better.  They  are 
such  as  belong  to  the  intercourse  of  an  old  man,  left  to 
struggle  through  the  last  years  of  a long  life  with  pov- 
erty and  misfortune,  and  express  the  feelings  becoming 
his  situation,  both  with  philosophical  calmness  and 
Christian  resignation." 

10  “ Cartas  de  Santa  Teresa  de 
Jesus,”  Madrid,  1793,  4 tom.  4to, — 
chiefly  written  in  the  latter  part  of 
her  life. 

11  The  letters  of  Argensola  are  in 
the  “ Cartas  de  Varies  Autores  Espa- 
noles,”  by  Mayans  y Siscar,  (Valen- 
cia, 1773,  5 tom.  12mo,) — itself  a mon- 
ument of  the  poverty  of  Spanish  liter- 
ature in  that  department  from  which 
it  attempts  to  make  a collection,  since 
by  far  the  greater  part  of  it  consists 
of  old  printed  dedications,  formal  epis- 
tles of  approbation  that  had  been  pre- 
fixed to  books  when  they  were  first 
published,  lives  of  authors  that  had 
served  as  prefaces  to  their  works, 
etc.  The  letters  of  Quevedo  and  Lope 
are  chiefly  on  literary  subjects,  and 


are  scattered  through  their  respective 
writings.  Those  of  Antonio  and  So- 
lis are  in  a small  volume  published  by 
Mayans  at  Lyons,  in  1733  ; to  which 
may  be  added  those  at  the  end  of  An- 
tonio’s “ Censura  de  Historias  Fabu- 
losas,”  Madrid,  1742,  fol.  The  “ Car- 
tas Philologicas  ” of  Cascales,  (of 
which  there  is  a neat  edition  by  San- 
chez, Madrid,  1779,  8vo,)  are  to  Spain 
and  the  age  in  which  they  were  writ- 
ten what  the  terse  and  pleasant  letters 
published  by  Melmoth,  under  the  pseu- 
donyme  of  Fitzosborne,  are  to  Eng- 
land in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  — an 
attempt  to  unite  as  much  learning  as 
the  public  would  bear  with  an  infusion 
of  lighter  matter  in  discussions  con- 
nected with  morals  and  manners. 


Chap.  XXXVII.]  EPISTOLARY  CORRESPONDENCE. 


137 


But  no  writer  in  the  history  of  Spanish  epistolary 
correspondence  can  be  compared  for  acuteness  and 
brilliancy  with  Antonio  Perez,  or  for  eloquence  with 
Santa  Teresa. 


L* 


VOL.  HI. 


18 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


Historical  Composition.  — Zurita,  Morales,  Ribadeneyra,  Siguenza, 
Mariana,  Sandoval,  Herrera,  Argensola,  the  Inca  Garcilasso, 
Mendoza,  Moncada,  Coloma,  Melo,  Saavedra,  Solis. — General 
Remarks  on  the  Spanish  Historians. 


The  fathers  of  Spanish  history,  as  distinguished  from 
Spanish  chronicling,  are  Zurita  and  Morales,  both  of 
whom,  educated  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Eifth,  show 
that  they  were  not  insensible  to  the  influences  of  that 
great  period  in  the  annals  of  their  country,  and  both 
of  whom,  after  its  close,  prepared  and  published  their 
works  under  the  happiest  auspices. 

Zurita  was  born  in  Saragossa  in  1512,  and  died  there 
in  1580 ; so  that  he  had  the  happiness  to  live  while 
the  political  privileges  of  his  native  kingdom  were  yet 
little  impaired,  and  to  die  just  before  they  were  effec- 
tually broken  down.  His  father  was  a favored  physi- 
cian of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  and  accompanied  that 
monarch  to  Naples  in  1506.  The  son,  who  showed 
from  early  youth  a great  facility  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge,  Avas  educated  at  the  University  of  Alcala, 
where  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  have,  for  his  chief 
instructor,  Fenian  Nunez,  who  ivas  commonly  called 
the  Greek  Commander,  from  the  circumstance,  that, 
while  his  position  in  the  state  as  a member  of  the  great 
family  of  the  Guzmans  made  him  Knight  Commander 
of  the  Order  of  Santiago,  his  personal  acquisitions  and 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


ZURITA. 


139 


talents  rendered  him  the  first  Greek  scholar  of  his  age 
and  country. 

As  the  elder  Znrita  continued  to  be  much  trusted  bj- 
Charles  the  Fifth,  and  as  his  son’s  connections  were 
chiefly  with  persons  of  great  consideration,  the  progress 
of  the  future  historian  was,  at  first,  rather  in  the  di- 
rection of  public  affairs.  But  in  1548,  under  circum- 
stances peculiarly  honorable  to  him,  he  was  appointed 
historiographer  of  Aragon ; being  elected  unanimously 
by  the  free  Cortes  of  the  kingdom  to  the  office,  which 
they  had  just  established,  and  as  a candidate  for  which 
he  had  to  encounter  the  most  powerful  and  learned 
competitors.  The  election  seems  to  have  satisfied  his 
ambition,  and  to  have  given  a new  direction  to  his  life. 
At  any  rate,  he  immediately  procured  a royal  Avarrant 
to  examine  and  use  all  documents  needful  for  his  pur- 
pose that  could  be  found  in  any  part  of  the  empire. 
Under  this  broad  authority  he  Avent  over  much  of  Spain, 
consulting  and  arranging  the  great  national  records  at 
Simancas,  and  then  Avsited  Sicily  and  Naples,  from 
AA'hose  monasteries  and  public  archiATs  he  obtained 
further  ample  and  learned  spoils. 

The  result  Avas,  that  betAveen  1562  and  1580  he  pub- 
lished, in  six  folio  volumes,  “ The  Annals  of  Aragon,” 
from  the  iiiA'asion  of  the  country  by  the  Arabs  to  1516, 
the  last  third  of  his  labor  being  entirely  given  to  the 
reign  of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  for  Avhich  the  recol- 
lections of  his  father’s  life  at  the  court  of  that  monarch 
probably  afforded  some  of  the  more  interesting  materials. 
The  Avhole  Avork  is  more  important  for  Spanish  history 
than  any  that  had  preceded  it.  It  has  hardly  any  thing 
of  the  monkish  credulity  of  the  old  chronicles,  for  Zu- 
rita  Avas  a man  of  the  world,  and  always  concerned  in 
the  stirring  interests  of  his  time ; first,  from  having 


140 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


been  intrusted  with  the  municipal  affairs  of  one  of 
the  principal  cities  of  the  kingdom;  next,  from  being 
charged  with  the  general  correspondence  of  the  In- 
quisition ; and  finally,  from  his  duties  as  one  of  the 
secretaries  of  Philip  the  Second,  which  kept  him  much 
at  court  and  about  the  king’s  person.  It  shows,  too, 
not  unfrequently,  a love  for  the  ancient  privileges  of 
Aragon,  and  a generosity  of  opinion  on  political  sub- 
jects, remarkable  in  one  who  was  aware  that  whatever 
he  wrote  would  not  only  be  submitted  before  its  pub- 
lication to  the  censorship  of  jealous  rivals,  but  read 
by  the  wary  and  severe  monarch  on  whom  all  his  for- 
tunes depended.  Its  faults  are  its  great  length  and  a 
carelessness  of  style,  scarcely  regarded  as  faults  at  the 
time  when  it  was  written.  ‘ 


1 The  best  notice  of  Geronimo  de 
Zurita  is  the  one  at  the  end  of  Part  11. 
Chap.  I.  of  Prescott’s  “ Ferdinand 
and  Isabella”; — the  most  ample  is 
the  folio  volume  of  Diego  Josef  Dor- 
mer, entitled  “ Progresos  de  la  His- 
toria  en  Aragon  ” (Zaragoza,  1680, 
folio)  ; really  a life  of  Zurita,  pub- 
lished in  his  honor  by  the  Cortes  of 
his  native  kingdom.  There  are  sev- 
eral editions  of  his  Annals  ; and  Latas- 
sa  (Bib.  Nueva,  Tom.  I.  pp.  358-373) 
gives  a list  of  above  forty  of  his  works, 
nearly  all  unpublished,  and  none  of 
them,  probably,  of  much  value,  except 
his  History,  to  which,  in  fact,  they 
are  generally  subsidiary.  He  held 
several  offices  under  Philip  IL,  and 
there  is  a letter  to  him  from  the  king 
in  Dormer,  (p.  109,)  which  shows 
that  he  enjoyed  much  of  the  royal 
consideration  ; though,  as  I have  inti- 
mated, and  as  may  be  fully  seen  in 
Dormer,  (Lib.  H.  c.  2,  3,  4,)  he  was 
much  teased,  at  one  time,  by  the  cen- 
sors of  his  History.  The  first  edition 
of  the  “ Anales  de  la  Corona  de  Ara- 
gon ” was  published  in  different  years, 
at  Saragossa,  between  1562  and  1580, 
to  which  a volume  of  Indices  was  add- 
ed in  1604,  making  seven  volumes. 


folio,  in  all.  The  third  edition  (Zara- 
goza, 1610-21,  7 tom.  folio)  is  the 
one  that  is  preferred. 

Another  volume  was  added  to  the 
Annals  of  Zurita  (Zaragoza,  1630, 
fol.)  by  Bartolome  Leonardo  de  Ar- 
gensola,  the  poet,  who  brought  them 
down  to  1520,  and  whose  style  is  bet- 
ter than  that  in  Zurita ’s  portion ; but 
not  much  of  it  is  the  work  of  Argen- 
sola,  so  heavy  is  it  with  documents. 

I have  said  that  Zurita  was  employ- 
ed as  secretary  of  Philip  IL,  from 
time  to  time ; and  such  was  the  fact. 
But  this  title  often  implied  little  ex- 
cept the  right  of  the  person  who  bore 
it  to  receive  a moderate  salary  from 
the  public  treasury  ; — a circumstance 
which  I mention  because  I have  occa- 
sion frequently  to  notice  authors  who 
were  royal  secretaries,  from  the  time 
of  Baena,  the  Jew,  in  the  days  of 
John  IL,  down  to  the  disappearance 
of  the  Austrian  family.  Thus  Gon- 
zalo  Perez  and  his  son  Antonio  were 
royal  secretaries  ; so  were  the  two 
Quevedos,  and  many  more.  In  1605, 
Philip  HI.  had  twenty-nine  such  secre- 
taries. Clemencin,  note  to  Don  Quix- 
ote, Parte  IL  c.  47. 


Chap.  XXXVIll.] 


MORALES. 


141 


Morales,  who  was  an  admirer  of  Zurita,  and  defend- 
ed him  from  one  of  his  assailants  in  a tract  published  at 
the  end  of  the  last  volume  of  the  “ Annals  of  Aragon,” 
was  born  in  1513,  a year  after  his  friend,  and  died  in 
1591,  having  survived  him  by  eleven  years.  He  was 
educated  at  Salamanca,  and,  besides  early  obtaining 
Church  preferments  and  distinctions,  rose  subsequently 
to  eminence  as  a Professor  in  the  University  of  Alcala. 
But  from  1570,  when  he  was  appointed  historiographer 
to  the  crown  of  Castile,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  com- 
pletion of  the  History  begun  on  so  vast  a scale  by  Ocam- 
po, whose  work  he  seems  to  have  taken  up  in  some 
degree  out  of  regard  for  the  memory  of  its  author. 

He  began  his  task,  however,  too  late.  He  was  al- 
ready sixty-seven  years  old,  and  when  he  died,  eleven 
years  afterwards,  he  had  been  able  to  bring  it  down  no 
further  than  to  the  union  of  the  crowns  of  Castile  and 
Leon,  in  1037,  — a point  from  which  it  was  afterwards 
carried,  by  Sandoval,  to  the  death  of  Alfonso  the  Seventh, 
in  1097,  where  it  finally  stops.  Imperfect,  however,  as 
is  the  portion  compiled  in  his  old  age  by  Morales,  we 
can  hardly  fail  to  regard  it,  not,  indeed,  as  so  wise 
and  well-weighed  an  historical  composition  as  that  of 
Zurita,  but  as  one  marked  with  much  more  general 
ability,  and  showing  a much  more  enlightened  spirit, 
than  the  work  of  Ocampo,  to  which  it  serves  as  a contin- 
uation. Its  style,  unhappily,  is  wanting  in  correctness ; 
— a circumstance  the  more  to  be  noticed,  since  Morales 
valued  himself  on  his  pure  Castilian,  both  as  the  son  of 
a gentleman  of  high  caste,  and  as  the  nephew  of  Fernan 
de  Oliva,  by  whom  he  was  educated,  and  whose  works 
he  had  published  because  they  had  done  so  much  to 
advance  prose  composition  in  Spain.^ 

2 The  History  of  Ambrosio  de  Morales  was  first  published  in  three  folios, 


142 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


Contemporary  with  both  Zurita  and  Morales,  but  far 
in  advance  of  both  of  them  as  a Avriter  of  history,  was 
the  old  statesman,  Diego  de  Mendoza,  Avhose  fresh  and 
vigorous  account  of  the  rebellion  of  the  Moors  in  1568 
we  have  already  considered,  noticing  it  rather  at  the  pe- 
riod when  it  Avas  Avritten  than  at  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  when  it  Avas  first  given  to  the 
Avorld,  and  AAdien  Siguenza,  Ribadeneyra,  Mariana,  San- 
doval, and  Herrera  had  already  appeared,  and  deter- 
mined the  character  Avhich  should  be  finally  impressed 
on  this  department  of  Spanish  literature. 

Of  this  group,  the  first  two,  Avho  devoted  themselves 
to  ecclesiastical  history,  and  entered  into  the  religious 
discussions  of  their  time,  Avere,  perhaps,  originally  the 
most  prominent,  Ribadeneyra,  one  of  the  early  and 
efficient  members  of  the  Socie'ty  of  Jesuits,  distinguished 
himself  by  his  “ History  of  the  Schism  in  the  English 
Church,”  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  by  his 
Lives  of  the  Saints.”  Siguenza,  Avho  Avas  a disciple 
of  Saint  Jerome,  Avas  no  less  faithful  to  the  brotherhood 


Alcala,  1574  -77  ; hut  the  best  edition 
is  that  of  Madrid,  1791,  in  six  small 
quartos,  to  which  are  commonly  added 
two  volumes,  dated  1793,  on  Spanish 
Antiquities,  and  three  more,  dated 
1793,  of  his  miscellaneous  works  ; — 
the  whole  being  preceded  by  the  work 
of  Ocampo,  in  two  volumes,  already 
noticed,  and  followed  by  the  continua- 
tion of  Sandoval,  in  one  volume,  a 
work  of  about  equal  merit  with  that 
of  IMorales,  and  first  printed  at  Pam- 
plona, in  1615,  folio.  The  three  au- 
thors, Ocampo,  Morales,  and  Sando- 
val, taken  together,  are  thus  made  to 
fill  twelve  volumes,  as  if  they  belonged 
to  one  work,  to  which  is  given  the  un- 
suitable title  of  “ Cordnica  General  de 
Espafia.” 

Morales,  in  his  youth,  cruelly  muti- 
lated his  person,  in  order  to  insure  his 
priestly  purity  of  life,  and  wellnigh 
died  of  the  consequences. 


I might  have  mentioned  here  the 
“ Comentario  de  la  Guerra  de  Alemana 
de  Luis  de  Avila  y Zuniga,”  a small 
volume,  (Anvers,  1550,  12mo,)  first 
printed  in  1548,  and  frequently  after- 
wards. both  in  Latin  and  F rench,  as  well 
as  in  Spanish.  It  is  an  account  of  the 
campaigns  of  Charles  V.  in  Germany, 
in  1546  and  1547,  prepared,  probably, 
from  information  furnished  by  the 
Emperor  himself,  (Navarra,  Dialogos, 
1567,  f.  13,)  and  written  in  a natural, 
hut  by  no  means  polished,  Castilian 
style.  Parts  of  it  bear  internal  evi- 
dence of  having  been  composed  at  the 
very  time  of  the  events  they  record, 
and  the  whole  is  evidently  the  wmrk  of 
one  of  the  few  personal  friends  Charles 
V.  ever  had  ; one,  however,  who  does 
not  appear  to  much  advantage  in  the 
private  letters  of  Guillaume  van  Male, 
printed  by  the  Belgian  Bibliophiles, 
in  1843.  See,  ante,  Vol.  I.  p.  499,  n. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MARIANA. 


143 


by  whom  he  was  adopted  and  honored,  as  his  life  of 
their  founder  and  his  history  of  their  Order  abundantly 
prove.  Both  were  men  of  uncommon  gifts,  and  wrote 
with  a manly  and  noble  eloquence ; the  first  with  more 
richness  and  fervor,  the  last  with  a more  simple  dignity, 
but  each  with  the  earnest  and  trusting  spirit  of  his  pe- 
culiar faith.^ 

From  the  nature  of  their  subjects,  however,  neither 
of  them  rose  to  be  the  great  historian  of  his  country ; — 
an  honor  which  belongs  to  Juan  de  Mariana,  a found- 
ling, who  was  born  at  Talavera  in  1536,  and  whose 
extraordinary  talents  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Jes- 
uits, then  fast  advancing  into  notice  as  a religious 
power.  Having  gone  through  a severe  course  of  studies 
at  Alcala,  he  was  selected,  at  the  age  of  twenty-four,  to 
fill  the  most  important  place  in  the  great  college  which 
the  members  of  his  society  were  then  establishing  at 
Rome,  and  which  they  regarded  as  one  of  their  princi- 
pal institutions  for  consolidating  and  extending  their 
influence.  After  five  years,  he  was  removed  to  Sicily, 


3 Pedro  de  Ribadeneyra,  who  died, 
aged  84,  in  1611,  and  for  whom  a beau- 
tiful epitaph  was  composed  by  Mariana, 
wrote  several  works  in  honor  of  his 
company,  and  several  ascetic  works, 
besides  his  “ Cisma  de  Inglaterra,” 
(Valencia,  1588,)  and  his  “ Flos 
Sanctorum,”  Madrid,  1599-  1601,2 
tom.  folio. 

Jos'i  de  Siguenza,  who  was  born  in 
1545,  and  died  in  1606,  as  Prior  of 
the  Escurial,  — whose  construction  he 
witnessed  and  described,  — published 
his  “ Vida  de  San  Geronimo,”  in  Ma- 
drid, 1595,  4to,  and  his  “ Historia  de 
la  Order!  de  San  Geronimo,”  in  Ma- 
drid, 1600,  4to.  He  was  persecuted 
by  the  Inquisition.  Llorente,  Hist,  de 
I’Inquisition,  Tom.  H.,  1817,  p.  474. 

It  would  be  easy  to  add  to  these  two 
writers  on  ecclesiastical  history  the 
names  of  many  more.  Hardly  a con- 


vent or  a saint  of  any  note  in  Spain, 
during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  failed  of  especial  commemo- 
ration ; and  each  of  the  religious  orders 
and  great  cathedrals  had  at  least  one 
historian,  and  most  of  them  several. 
The  number  of  books  on  Spanish 
ecclesiastical  history  to  be  found  in 
the  list  at  the  end  of  the  second  vol- 
ume of  Antonio's  Bibliotheca  Nova  is. 
therefore,  one  that  may  well  be  called 
enormous.  Some  of  them,  too,  like 
the  history  of  the  order  of  St.  Bene- 
dict, by  Yepes,  and  several  of  the  his- 
tories of  those  orders  that  were  both 
knightly  and  religious,  are  of  no  little 
importance  for  the  facts  and  documents 
with  which  they  are  crowded.  But 
nearly  all  of  them  are  heavy,  monkish 
annals,  and  not  one,  I believe,  has 
literary  merit  enough  to  attract  our 
attention. 


144 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


to  introduce  similar  studies  into  that  island ; and,  a little 
later,  he  was  transferred  to  Paris,  where  he  was  receiv- 
ed with  honor,  and  taught  for  several  years,  lecturing 
chiefly  on  the  works  and  opinions  of  Thomas  Aquinas, 
to  crowded  audiences.  But  the  climate  of  France  was 
unfriendly  to  his  health,  and  in  1574,  having  spent  thir- 
teen years  in  foreign  countries,  as  a public  instructor, 
he  returned  to  Spain,  and  established  himself  in  the 
house  of  his  order  at  Toledo,  which  he  hardly  left  dur- 
ing the  forty-nine  remaining  years  of  his  life. 

This  long  period,  which  he  devoted  to  literary  labor, 
was  not,  however,  permitted  to  be  as  peaceful  as  his 
merits  should  have  made  it.  The  Polyglot  Bible  pub- 
lished by  Arias  Montano  at  Antwerp,  in  1569-72, — 
which  was  at  first  received  with  great  favor,  but  after- 
wards, by  the  intrigues  of  the  Jesuits,  was  denounced 
to  the  Inquisition,  excited  so  bitter  a quarrel,  that  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  the 
charges  brought  against  it.  By  the  management  of  the 
Jesuits,  Mariana  was  the  principal  person  employed  to 
make  the  investigation ; and,  through  his  learning  and 
influence,  they  felt  sure  of  a triumph.  But  though  he 
was  a faithful  Jesuit,  he  was  not  a subservient  one.  His 
decision  was  in  favor  of  Montano ; and  this,  together 
with  the  circumstance  that  he  did  not  follow  the  intima- 
tions given  to  him  when  he  was  employed  in  arranging 
the  Index  Expurgatorius  of  1584,  brought  upon  him 
the  displeasure  of  his  superiors  in  a way  that  caused 
him  much  trouble.'^ 

In  1599,  he  published  a Latin  treatise  on  the  Institu- 

■i  Llorente,  Tom.  I.  p.  479,  Tom.  not  think  the  course  of  Mariana,  in 
II.  p.  457,  Tom.  III.  pp.  75  - 82.  this  investigation,  was  so  frank  as  it 
Carvajal,  the  author  of  the  “ Elogio  should  have  been.  Perhaps  it  was 
Historico  ” of  Montano,  in  the  seventh  not ; but  he  came  to  the  right  conclu- 
volume  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  Acade-  sion  at  last,  and  it  was  a bold  and 
my  of  History,  (1832,  4to,  p.  84,)  does  honest  thing  to  do  so. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MARIANA. 


145 


tion  of  Royalty,  and  dedicated  it  to  Philip  the  Third , 
— a work  liberal  in  its  general  political  tone,  and  even 
intimating  that  there  are  cases  in  which  it  may  be  law- 
ful to  put  a monarch  to  death.  At  home,  it  caused  little 
remark.  It  was  regularly  approved  by  the  censors  of 
the  press,  and  is  even  said  to  have  been  favored  by  the 
policy  of  the  government,  which,  in  the  time  of  Philip 
the  Second,  had  sent  assassins  to  cut  off  Elizabeth  of 
England  and  the  Prince  of  Orange.  But  in  France, 
where  Henry  the  Third  had  been  thus  put  to  death  a 
few  years  before,  and  where  Henry  the  Fourth  suffered 
a similar  fate  a few  years  afterwards,  it  excited  a great 
sensation.  Indeed,  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  first  book 
directly  mentions,  and  by  implication  countenances,  the 
murder  of  the  former  of  these  monarchs,  and  was  claim- 
ed, though  contrary  to  the  truth  of  fact,  to  have  been 
among  the  causes  that  stimulated  Ravaillac  to  the  assas- 
sination of  the  latter.  It  was,  therefore,  both  attacked 
and  defended  with  extraordinary  acrimony ; and  at  last 
the  Parliament  of  Paris  ordered  it  to  be  burned  by  the 
hands  of  the  common  hangman.  What  was  more  un- 
fortunate for  its  author,  the  whole  discussion  ha\dng 
brought  much  popular  odium  on  the  Jesuits,  who  were 
held  responsible  for  a book  which  was  written  by  one 
of  their  order,  and  could  not  have  been  published  with- 
out permission  of  its  heads,  Mariana  himself  became 
more  than  ever  unwelcome  to  the  great  body  of  his 
religious  associates.® 


5 The  account  of  this  book,  and  of 
the  discussions  it  occasioned,  is  given 
amply  by  Bayle,  in  the  notes  to  his 
article  Mariana ; but,  as  is  usual  with 
him,  in  a manner  that  shows  his  dis- 
hke  of  the  Jesuits.  I know  the  trea- 
tise “ De  Rege  et  Regis  Institutione  ” 
only  in  the  edition  “ Typis  Wecheli- 
anis,”  1611,  12mo  ; but  I believe  that 

VOL.  111.  19 


edition  is  not  at  all  expurgated.  Cer- 
tainly, the  passage  Lib.  I.  c.  6 is 
quite  strong  enough,  in  extenuation  of 
the  atrocious  crime  of  Jaques  Clemens, 
to  be  open  to  severe  animadversion. 
(Sismondi,  Hist,  des  Fran^ais,  Paris, 
8vo,  Tom.  XXII.,  1839,  p.  191.) 
From  the  very  remarkable  letters  of 
Loaysa,  the  confessor  of  Charles  V., 

M 


146  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

At  last,  an  occasion  was  found  where  he  could  be  as- 
sailed without  assigning  the  reasons  for  the  attack.  In 
1609,  he  published,  not  in  Spain,  but  at  Cologne,  seven 
Latin  treatises  on  various  subjects  of  theology  and  criti- 
cism, such  as  the  state  of  the  Spanish  theatre,  the  Arab 
computation  of  time,  and  the  year  and  day  of  the  Sav- 
iour’s birth.  Most  of  them  were  of  a nature  that  could 
provoke  no  animadversion ; but  one,  “ On  Mortality  and 
Immortality,”  was  seized  upon  for  theological  censure, 
and  another,  “ On  the  Coinage  of  the  Lealm,”  was 
assailed  on  political  grounds,  because  it  showed  how 
unwise  and  scandalous  had  been  the  practices  of  the 
reigning  favorite,  the  Duke  of  Lerma,  in  tampering 
with  the  currency  and  debasing  it.  The  Inquisition 
took  cognizance  of  both ; and  their  author,  though  then 
seventy- three  years  old,  was  subjected  first  to  confine- 
ment, and  afterwards  to  penance,  for  his  offences.  Both 
works  were  placed  at  once  on  the  Index  Expurgato- 
rius ; and  Philip  the  Third  gave  orders  to  collect  and 
destroy  as  many  copies  as  possible  of  the  volume  in 
which  they  were  contained.  As  Lope  de  Vega  said, 
“ His  country  did  not  pardon  the  most  learned  Mariana 
when  he  erred.” 

His  treatment  on  this  occasion  was  undoubtedly  the 
more  severe,  because  among  his  papers  was  found  a 
treatise  “ On  the  Errors  in  the  Government  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  Jesuits,”  which  was  not  printed  till  after  its  au- 
thor’s death,  and  then  with ‘no  friendly  views  to  the 
order.®  But  the  firm  spirit  of  Mariana  was  not  broken 


it  appears  that  the  great  Emperor  Heine,  Berlin,  1848,  8vo,  p.  130, 
himself  was  as  little  scrupulous  as  and  note. 

his  son  in  such  matters.  This  ren-  6 “ Joh.  Mariana,  e Soc.  Jesu,  Trac- 
ders  the  passage  in  Mariana  more  tatus  VII.,  nunc  primum  in  Lucem 
easy  of  explanation.  See  Briefe  an  editi,”  Colon.  Agrip.,  1609,  fol. ; my 
Kaiser  Karl  V.,  etc.,  von  D.  G.  copy  of  which  is  mutilated  accord- 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MARIANA. 


147 


by  his  persecutions.  He  went  forward  with  his  literary 
labors  to  the  last;  and  when  he  died,  in  1623,  it  was 
of  the  infirmities  which  his  extreme  age  had  natural- 
ly brought  with  it.  He  was  eighty-seven  years  old. 

The  main  occupation  of  the  last  thirty  or  forty  years 
of  his  life  was  his  great  History.  In  the  foreign  coun- 
ti’ies  where  he  had  long  lived,  the  earlier  annals  of 
Spain  were  so  little  known  to  the  learned  men  with 
whom  he  had  been  associated,  that,  as  a Spaniard,  he* 
had  felt  mortified  by  an  ignorance  which  seemed  disre- 
spectful to  his  country.  He  determined,  therefore,  to 
do  something  that  should  show  the  world  by  what 
manly  steps  Spain  had  come  into  the  larger  interests  of 
Europe,  and  to  prove  by  her  history  that  she  deserved 
the  consideration  she  had,  from  the  time  of  Charles  the 
Fifth,  everywhere  enjoyed.  He  began  his  work,  there- 
fore, in  Latin,  that  all  Christendom  might  be  able  to 
read  it,  and  in  1592  published,  in  that  language,  twenty 
out  of  thirty  of  the  books,  of  which  it  consists. 

But,  even  before  he  had  printed  the  other  ten  books, 
which  appeared  in  1609,  he  was  fortunately  induced, 
like  Cardinal  Bembo,  to  become  his  own  translator,  and 
to  give  his  work  to  his  counti7men  in  the  pure  Castilian 
of  Toledo.  In  doing  this,  he  enjoyed  a great  advantage. 


ing  to  the  minute  directions  given  in 
the  Index  Expurgatorius,  1667,  p. 
719.  It  should  be  noted  that  the  trea- 
tise “ De  Ponderibus  et  Mensuris,” 
which  contains  the  obnoxious  discus- 
sions about  the  coin,  had  been  previ- 
ously published  at  Toledo,  in  a neat 
quarto  volume,  in  1599,  a copy  of  which 
I have,  with  all  needful  authority  and 
privileges.  (Santander,  Catalogue, 
1792,  8vo,  Tom.  IV.  pp.  152,  153,  ar- 
ticle Proceso  del  Padre  Mariana,  MS. 
Lope  de  Vega,  Obras  Sueltas,Tom.  I.  p. 
295.)  The  “DiscursusdeErroribusqui 
in  Forma  Gubernationis  Societatis  Jesu 


occurrunt,”  written  in  Mariana’s  beau- 
tiful flowing  style,  was  first  printed  at 
Bordeaux,  1625,  8vo,  and  then  again 
on  the  suppression  of  the  order  by 
Charles  III. ; but  in  the  Index  Expur- 
gatorius, (1667,  p.  735,)  where  it  is 
strictly  prohibited,  it  is  craftily  treated 
as  if  it  were  still  in  manuscript,  and  as 
if  its  author  were  not  certainly  known. 
In  the  Index  of  1790,  he  is  still  cen- 
sured with  great  severity.  A consid- 
erable number  of  his  unpublished  man- 
uscripts is  said  to  have  been  long 
preserved  in  the  Jesuits’  Library  at 
Toledo. 


148  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 

He  might  use  a freedom  in  his  version  that  could  he 
claimed  by  no  one  else ; for  he  had  not  only  a right  to 
change  the  phraseology  and  arrangement,  but,  whenever 
he  saw  fit,  he  might  modify  the  opinions  of  a book 
u^hich  was  as  much  his  own  in  the  one  language  as  in 
the  other.  His  “ Historia  de  Espana,”  therefore,  the 
first  part  of  which  appeared  in  1601,  has  all  the  air  and 
merit  of  an  original  work;  and  in  the  successive  edi- 
tions published  under  his  own  direction,  and  especially 
in  the  fourth,  which  appeared  the  very  year  of  his  death, 
it  was  gradually  enlarged,  enriched,  and  in  every  way 
improved,  until  it  became,  what  it  has  remained  ever 
since,  the  proudest  monument  erected  to  the  history  of 
his  country.’^ 

It  begins  with  the  supposed  peopling  of  Spain  b}^ 
Tubal,  the  son  of  Japhet,  and  comes  down  to  the  death 
of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic  and  the  accession  of  Charles 
the  Fifth ; to  all  which  Mariana  himself  afterwards 
added  a compressed  abstract  of  the  course  of  events  to 
1621,  when  Philip  the  Fourth  ascended  the  throne.  It 
was  a bold  undertaking,  and  in  some  respects  is  mark- 
ed with  the  peculiar  spirit  of  its  age.  In  weighing  the 
value  of  authorities,  for  instance,  he  has  been  less  care- 
ful than  became  the  high  office  he  had  assumed.  He 
follows  Ocampo,  and  especially  Garibay,  — credulous 
compilers  of  old  fables,  who  were  his  own  contempora- 
ries,— confessing  freely  that  he  thought  it  safest  and 
best  to  take  the  received  traditions  of  the  country,  un- 
less obvious  reasons  called  upon  him  to  reject  them. 

The  most  carefully  printed  and  to  any  press  in  Europe.  It  is  remark- 
beautiful  edition  of  Mariana’s  History  able  how  much  Mariana  amended  his 
is  the  fourteenth,  published  at  Madrid,  History  in  the  successive  editions 
by  Ibarra,  (two  vols.  fol.  1780,)  under  during  his  lifetime  ; the  additions  be- 
the  direction  of  the  Superintendents  tween  1608  and  1633  being  equal,  as 
of  the  Royal  Library  ; — a book  whose  stated  by  the  editors  of  that  of  1780, 
mechanical  execution  would  do  honor  to  a moderate  volume. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MARIANA. 


149 


His  manner,  too,  is,  in  a few  particulars,  open  to  re- 
mark, In  the  beautiful  dedication  of  the  Spanish  ver- 
sion of  his  History  to  Philip  the  Third,  he  admits  that 
antiquated  words  occasionally  adhere  to  his  style,  from 
his  familiar  study  of  the  old  writers ; and  Saavedra,  who 
was  pleased  to  find  fault  with  him,  says,  that,  as  other 
people  dye  their  beards  to  make  themselves  look  young, 
Mariana  dyed  his  to  make  himself  look  old.® 

But  there  is  another  side  to  all  this.  His  willing  be- 
lief in  the  old  chronicles,  tempered,  as  it  necessarily  is, 
by  his  great  learning,  gives  an  air  of  true-heartedness 
and  good  faith  to  his  accounts,  and  a picturesqueness 
to  his  details,  which  are  singularly  attractive;  while, 
at  the  same  time,  his  occasional  antiquated  words  and 
phrases,  so  well  suited  to  such  views  of  his  subject,  add 
to  the  idiomatic  richness,  in  which,  among  Spanish 
prose  compositions,  the  style  of  Mariana  is  all  but  un- 
rivalled. His  narratives  — the  most  important  part  of 
an  historical  work  of  this  class  — are  peculiarly  flow- 
ing, fi'ee,  and  impressive.  The  accounts  of  the  wars 
of  Hannibal,  in  the  second  book ; those  of  the  irruption 
of  the  Northern  nations,  with  which  the  fifth  opens; 
the  conspiracy  of  John  de  Procida,  in  the  fourteenth; 
the  last  scenes  in  the  troubled  life  of  Peter  the  Cruel,  in 
the  seventeenth;  and  most  of  the  descriptions  of  the 
leading  events  in  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 


8 Mariana,  Hist.,  Lib.  I.  c.  13.  Saa- 
vedra, Republica  Literaria,  Madrid, 
1759,  4to,  p.  44.  Mariana  admits  the 
want  of  critical  exactness  in  some 
parts  of  his  history,  when,  replying 
to  a letter  of  Lupercio  de  Argensola, 
who  had  noticed  his  mistake  in  calling 
Prudentius  a Spaniard,  he  says:  “ I 
never  undertook  to  make  a history  of 
Spain,  in  which  I should  verify  every 
particular  fact ; for  if  I had,  I should 


never  have  finished  it ; hut  I undertook 
to  arrange  in  a becoming  style,  and  in 
the  Latin  language,  what  others  had 
collected  as  materials  for  the  fabric 
I desired  to  raise.  To  look  up  author- 
ities for  every  thing  would  have  left 
Spain,  for  another  series  of  centuries, 
without  a Latin  History  that  could 
show  itself  in  the  world.”  J.  A. 
Pellicer,  Ensayo  de  una  Biblioteca  de 
Traductores,  p.  59. 

M * 


150  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

towards  the  conclusion  of  the  work,  give  abundant 
proof  of  this  peculiar  historical  talent.  They  seem  in- 
stinct with  life  and  movement. 

His  formal  speeches,  in  Avhich  he  made  Livy  his  mod- 
el, are,  generally,  less  fortunate.  Most  of  them  Avant 
individuality  and  appropriateness.  But  the  one  which 
in  the  fifth  book  he  has  giA-en  to  Buy  Lope  Davalos, 
Avhen  that  nobleman  ofiers  the  croAvn  of  Castile  to  the 
Infante  Don  Ferdinand,  is  remarkable  for  the  coura- 
geous spirit  in  which  it  discusses  the  foundations  of  all 
political  government,  and  leaves  the  rights  of  kings  to 
rest  on  the  assent  of  their  subjects ; — a boldness,  it 
should  be  added,  Avhich  is  apparent  in  many  other 
parts  of  his  history,  as  it  Avas  in  much  of  his  life. 

The  characters  he  has  draAvn  of  the  prominent  per- 
sonages that,  from  time  to  time,  come  to  the  front  of 
the  stage,  are  almost  ahvays  short,  sketched  Avith  a feAv 
touches,  and  struck  off  Avith  the  hand  of  a master. 
Such  are  those  of  Alvaro  de  Luna,  Alfonso  the  Wise, 
and  the  unhappy  Prince  of  Viana,  in  which  so  fcAV 
Avords  could  hardly  be  made  to  express  more. 

As  a general  remark,  a certain  nobleness  of  air  and 
carriage,  not,  perhaps,  Avithout  something  of  the  old 
Castilian  sturdiness,  but  iieA^er  without  its  dignity,  is 
the  characteristic  that  most  prevails  throughout  the 
whole  Avork;  and  this,  Avith  its  admirably  idiomatic 
style,  — so  full,  yet  so  unencumbered,  so  pure  and  yet 
so  rich,  — renders  it,  if  not  the  most  trustworthy  of 
annals,  at  least  the  most  remarkable  union  of  pic- 
turesque chronicling  Avith  sober  history,  that  the  world 
has  eA^er  seen.® 

^ The  first  attack  on  Mariana  was  printed  his  “ Advertencias  ” at  Milan 
made  by  a Spaniard  in  Italy,  who  call-  in  1611.  Thomas  Tamayo  de  A'^ar- 
ed  himself  Pedro  Manluano,  and  who  gas  wrote  a vituperative  reply  to  it 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


SANDOVAL. 


151 


Sandoval,  wlio  was  one  of  tlie  salaried  clironiclers  of 
the  monarchy,  and  who,  in  that  capacity,  prepared  the 
continuation  of  Morales,  already  noticed,  seems  to  have 
been  willing  to  constitute  himself  the  successor  of  Ma- 
riana, and  prosecute  the  general  history  of  Spain  where 
that  eloquent  Jesuit  Avas  likely  to  leaA-e  it,  rather  than 
from  the  point  where  he  had  himself  othcially  taken  it 
up.  At  least  he  began  there,  and  wrote  an  elaborate 
life  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  But  it  is  too  long.  It  fills 
as  many  pages  as  the  entire  Avork  of  Mariana,  and, 
though  AAuitten  Avith  simplicity,  is  not  attractwe  in  its 
style.  His  prejudices  are  strong  and  obvious.  Not 
only  the  monk,  — for  he  Avas  a Benedictine,  and  enjoy- 
ed successively  tAvo  A^ery  rich  bishoprics,  — but  the  cour- 
tier of  Philip  the  Third,  is  constantly  apparent.  He 
lays  the  Avhole  crime  of  the  assault  and  capture  of  Pome 
upon  the  Constable  de  Bourbon ; and,  besides  tracing 
the  Austrian  family  distinctly  to  Adam,  he  connects  its 
honors  genealogically  AAntli  those  of  Hercules  and  Dar- 
danus.  Still,  the  History  of  Sandoval  is  a documentary 
work  of  authority  much  relied  on  by  Robertson,  and 
one  that,  on  the  AAdiole,  by  its  ample  and  minute  de- 
tails, gives  a more  satisfactory  account  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Fifth  than  any  other  single  history  extant. 
It  was  first  published  in  1604-6,  and  its  author  died 
at  the  end  of  1620  or  the  beginning  of  1621.^° 


(Toledo,  1616,  4to).  But  Mariana 
wisely  refused  to  read  either.  The 
Marquis  of  Mondejar,  a most  respect- 
able authority,  renewed  the  discussion, 
and  his  “ Advertencias  ” were  pub- 
lished, (A''alencia,  1746,  folio,)  with 
a preface  by  Mayans  y Siscar,  some- 
what mitigating  their  force.  Still, 
neither  these,  which  are  the  principal 
criticisms  that  have  appeared  on  Mari- 
ana, nor  any  others,  have,  in  the  esti- 
mation of  Spaniards,  seriously  inter- 


fered with  his  claims  to  be  regarded 
as  the  great  historian  of  his  country. 

10  Antonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  II.  p. 
255.  La  Mothe  le  Vayer,  in  a dis- 
course addressed  to  Cardinal  Mazarin, 
(CEuvres,  Paris,  1662,  folio,  Tom.  1. 
pp.  225,  etc.,)  assails  Sandoval  furi- 
ously, and  sometimes  successfully,  for 
his  credulity,  superstition,  flatter3', 
etc.,  not  forgetting  his  style.  It  was 
a part  of  the  warfare  of  France  against 
Spain. 


152 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


After  this,  no  important  and  connected  work  on  the 
history  of  Spain,  that  falls  within  the  domain  of  elegant 
literature,  appeared  for  a long  period.”  Portions  of 


n During  this  period,  embracing  a 
large  jiart  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
two  remarkable  controversies  took 
place  in  Spain,  which,  by  introducing 
a more  critical  caution  into  historical 
composition,  were  not  without  their 
effect  on  Mariana,  and  may  have  tend- 
ed to  diminish  the  number  of  his  suc- 
cessors, by  subjecting  history,  in  all 
its  forms,  to  more  rigorous  rules. 
The  discussions  referred  to  arose  in 
consequence  of  two  extraordinary 
forgeries,  which,  for  a time,  created 
a great  sensation  throughout  the 
country,  and  deluded  not  a few  in- 
telligent men  and  honest  scholars. 

The  first  related  to  certain  metal- 
lic plates,  sometimes  called  “ The 
Leaden  Books,”  which,  having  been 
prepared  and  buried  for  the  purpose 
several  years  before,  were  disinterred 
near  Granada  between  1588  and  1595, 
and,  when  deciphered,  seemed  to  offer 
materials  for  defending  the  favorite 
doctrine  of  the  Spanish  Church  on 
the  Immaculate  Conception,  and  for 
establishing  the  great  corner-stone 
of  Spanish  ecclesiastical  history,  the 
coming  to  Spain  of  the  Apostle  James, 
the  patron  saint  of  the  country.  This 
gross  forgery  was  received  for  authen- 
tic history  by  Philip  II.,  Philip  III., 
and  Philip  IV.,  each  of  whom,  in  a 
council  of  state,  consisting  of  the  prin- 
cipal personages  of  the  kingdom,  sol- 
emnly adjudged  it  to  be  true  ; so  that, 
at  one  period  of  the  discussion,  some 
persons  believed  the  “ Leaden  Books  ” 
would  be  admitted  into  the  Canon  of 
the  Scriptures.  The  question,  how- 
ever, was  in  time  settled  at  Rome, 
and  they  were  decided,  by  the  high- 
est tribunal  of  the  Church,  to  be  false 
and  forged  ; a decision  in  which  Spain 
soon  acquiesced. 

The  other  fraud  was  connected  with 
this  one  of  the  “Leaden  Books,” 
whose  authority  it  was  alleged  to  con- 
firm ; but  it  was  much  broader  and 
bolder  in  its  claims  and  character.  It 
consisted  of  a series  of  fragments  of 
chronicles,  circulated  earlier  in  manu- 


script, but  first  printed  in  1610,  and 
then  represented  to  have  come,  in 
1594,  from  the  monastery  of  Fulda, 
near  Worms,  to  Father  Higuera,  of 
Toledo,  a Jesuit,  and  a personal  ac- 
quaintance of  Mariana.  They  pur- 
ported, on  their  face,  to  have  been 
written  by  Flavius  Lucius  Dexter, 
Marcus  Maximus,  Heleca,  and  other 
primitive  Christians,  and  contained 
important  and  wholly  new  statements 
touching  the  early  civil  and  ecclesiasti- 
cal history  of  Spain.  They  were,  no 
doubt,  an  imitation  of  the  forgeries  of 
John  of  Viterbo,  given  to  the  world 
about  a century  before  as  the  works 
of  Berosus  and  Manetho ; but  the 
Spanish  forgeries  were  prepared  with 
more  leaiTring  and  a nicer  ingenuity. 
Flattering  fictions  were  fitted  to  recog- 
nized facts,  as  if  both  rested  on  the 
same  authority ; new  saints  were  given 
to  churches  that  were  not  well  pro- 
vided in  this  department  of  their 
hagiology ; a dignified  origin  was 
traced  for  noble  families,  that  had  be- 
fore been  unable  to  boast  of  their  foun- 
ders ; and  a multitude  of  Christian  con- 
quests and  achievements  were  hinted 
at  or  recorded,  that  gratified  the  pride 
of  the  whole  nation,  the  more  because 
they  had  never  till  then  been  heard  of. 
Few  doubted  what  it  was  so  agreeable 
to  all  to  believe.  Sandoval,  Tamayo 
de  Vargas,  Lorenzo  Ramirez  de  Prado, 
and,  for  a time,  Nicolas  Antonio,  — 
all  learned  men,  — were  persuaded  that 
these  summaries  of  chronicles,  or  cliro- 
nicones,  as  they  were  called,  w'ere  au- 
thentic; and  if  Arias  Montano,  the 
editor  of  the  Polyglot,  Mariana,  the 
historian,  and  Antonio  Agustin,  the 
cautious  and  critical  friend  of  Zurita, 
held  an  opposite  faith,  they  did  not 
think  it  worth  while  openly  to  avow 
it.  The  current  of  opinion,  in  fact, 
ran  strongly  in  favor  of  the  forgeries ; 
and  they  were  generally  regarded  as 
true  history  till  about  1650  or  a little 
later,  and  therefore  till  long  after  the 
death  of  their  real  author.  Father 
Higuera,  which  happened  in  1624. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


HERRERA. 


153 


Spanish  history,  and  portions  of  the  history  of  Spanish 
discovery  and  conquest  in  the  East  and  the  West,  were 
indeed  published  from  time  to  time,  but  the  official 
chroniclers  of  the  crowns  of  Castile  and  Aragon  no 
longer  felt  themselves  bound  to  go  on  with  the  great 
works  of  their  jiredecessors,  and  the  decaying  spirit  of 
the  monarchy  made  no  earnest  demands  on  others  to 
tread  in  their  steps.  Some,  however,  of  these  historians 
of  the  outposts  of  an  empire  which  now  extended 
round  the  globe,  and  some  of  the  accounts  of  isolated 
events  in  its  annals  at  home,  should  be  noticed. 

Of  this  class,  the  first  in  importance  and  the  most 
comprehensive  in  character  is  “ The  General  History  of 
the  Indies,”  by  Antonio  de  Herrera.  It  embraces  the 
period  from  the  first  discovery  of  America  to  the  year 
1554 ; and  as  Herrera  was  a practised  writer,  and,  from 
his  official  position  as  historiographer  to  the  Indies,  had 
access  to  every  source  of  information  known  m his  time, 
his  work,  which  was  printed  in  1601,  is  of  great  value. 
But  he  was  the  author  of  other  historical  works,  for 


The  discussion  about  them,  however, 
which,  it  is  evident,  was  going  quietly 
on  during  much  of  this  time,  was  use- 
ful. Doubts  were  multiplied ; the  dis- 
belief in  their  genuineness,  which  had 
been  expressed  to  Higuera  himself,  as 
early  as  1595,  by  the  modest  and  learn- 
ed Juan  Bautista  Perez,  Bishop  of  Se- 
gorbe,  gradually  gained  ground ; writ- 
ers of  history  grew  cautious  ; and  at 
last,  in  1652,  Nicolas  Antonio  began 
his  “ Historias  Fabulosas  ” ; a huge 
folio,  which  he  left  unfinished  at  his 
death,  and  which  was  not  printed  till 
long  afterwards,  but  which,  with  its 
cumbrous,  though  clear-sighted  learn- 
ing, left  no  doubt  as  to  the  nature  and 
extent  of  the  fraud  of  Father  Higuera, 
and  made  his  case  a teaching  to  all 
future  Spanish  historians,  that  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  lost  on  them. 
See  the  Chronicle  of  Dexter  at  the  end 

20 


of  Antonio’s  Bibliotheca  Vetus ; the 
Historias  Fabulosas  of  Antonio,  with 
the  Life  of  its  author  prefixed  by 
Mayans  y Siscar,  (Madrid,  1742, 
folio,)  to  show  the  grossness  of  the 
whole  imposture  ; and  the  “ Chronica 
Universal”  of  Alonso  Maldonado, 
(Madrid,  1624,  folio,)  to  show  how 
implicitly  it  was  then  believed  and 
followed  by  learned  men.  The  man 
of  learning  who  was  the  most  clear- 
sighted about  “ The  Leaden  Books” 
and  the  chronicones,  and  who  behaved 
with  the  most  courage  in  relation  to 
them  from  the  first,  was,  I suppose, 
the  Bishop  of  Segorbe,  who  is  noticed 
in  Villanueva,  “ Viage  Literario  a las 
Iglesias  de  Espana,”  (Madrid,  1804, 
8vo,  Tom.  HI.  p.  166,)  together  with 
the  document  (pp.  259 -278)  in  which 
he  exposes  the  whole  fraud,  but  which 
was  never  before  published. 


VOL.  III. 


154 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  H- 


which  his  qualifications  and  resources  were  less  satis- 
factory and  his  prejudices  more  abundant ; — such  as  a 
“History  of  the  World  during  the  Reign  of  Philip  the 
Second,”  a History  of  the  affairs  of  England  and  Scot- 
land, during  the  unhappy  times  of  Mary  Stuart ; a His- 
tory of  the  League  in  France;  and  a History  of  the 
affair  of  Antonio  Perez  and  the  troubles  that  followed 
it ; — all  written  under  the  influence  of  contemporary 
passions,  and  all  published  between  1589  and  1612,  be- 
fore any  of  these  passions  had  been  much  tranquillized. 

It  is  sufficient  to  say  of  them,  that,  in  the  case  of  An- 
tonio Perez,  Herrera  suppresses  nearly  every  one  of  the 
important  facts  that  tend  to  the  justification  of  that  re- 
markable man ; and  that,  by  way  of  a glorious  termi- 
nation to  his  Universal  History,  he  gives  Philip  the  Sec- 
ond, in  his  death-struggles,  miraculous  assistance  from 
heaven,  to  enable  him  to  end  his  long  and  holy  life  by 
an  act  of  devotion.  Herrera’s  chief  reputation,  there- 
fore, as  an  historian,  must  rest  upon  his  great  work  on 
the  Discovery  and  Conquest  of  America,  in  which,  in- 
deed, his  style,  nowhere  rich  or  powerful,  seems  better 
and  more  effective  than  it  is  in  his  other  attempts  at 
historical  composition.  He  died  in  1625,  above  seventy- 
six  years  old,  much  valued  by  Philip  the  Fourth,  as  he 
had  been  by  that  monarch’s  father  and  grandfather.'^ 

But  the  East,  as  well  as  the  West,  was  now  opened 
to  Spanish  adventure.  The  conquest  of  Portugal  had 


“ Historia  General  de  los  Hechos 
de  los  Castellanos  en  las  Islas  y Tierra 
Firme  del  Mar  Oceano,”  Madrid,  1601 
- 15, 4 vols.  fol.  — “ Historia  General 
del  Mundo  del  Tieinpo  del  Seiior  Rey 
Don  Felipe  IL,  desde  1559,  hasta  su 
Muerte,”  Madrid,  1601-12,3  vols. 
fol.  — Five  books  on  the  History  of 
Portugal  and  the  Conquest  of  the 
Azores  were  printed,  Madrid,  1591, 


4to ; the  History  of  the  League,  Ma- 
drid, 1598,  4to ; and  the  History  of 
the  Troubles  in  Aragon,  in  1612,  4to  ; 
the  last  being  only  a tract  of  140  pages. 
A work  on  the  History  of  Italy,  from 
1281  to  1559,  printed  at  Madrid  in 
1624,  folio,  I have  never  seen.  The 
Historia  General  del  Mundo  is  on  the 
Index  of  1667,  for  expurgation. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


ARGENSOLA. 


155 


brought  the  Oriental  dependencies  of  that  kingdom 
under  the  authority  of  the  Spanish  croum;  and  as  the 
Count  de  Lemos,  the  great  patron  of  letters  in  his  time, 
and  President  of  the  Council  of  the  Indies,  chanced  to 
have  his  attention  particularly  drawn  in  that  direction, 
he  commanded  the  younger  of  the  Argensolas  to  write 
an  account  of  the  Moluccas.  The  poet  obeyed,  and 
published  his  work  in  1609,  dedicating  it  to  Philip  the 
Third.  It  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  of  the  minor 
Spanish  histories;  full  of  the  traditions  found  among 
the  natives  by  the  Portuguese,  when  they  first  landed, 
and  of  the  wild  adventures  that  followed  when  they  had 
taken  possession  of  the  islands.  Parts  of  it  are,  indeed, 
inconsistent  with  the  nature  of  the  civilization  they 
found  there,  such  as  formal  and  eloquent  harangues 
attributed  to  the  natives;  while  other  parts,  like  some 
of  its  love-stories,  are  romantic  enough  to  be  suspected 
of  invention,  even  if  they  are  true.  But,  in  general,  the 
work  is  written  in  an  agreeable  poetical  style,  such  as 
is  not  unhefitting  an  account  of  the  mysterious  isles 

“ Of  Ternate  and  Tidore,  whence  merchants  brought 
Their  spicy  drugs,”  — 

striving,  for  a long  time,  to  hide  from  the  competition 
of  other  nations  the  history  and  resources  of  the  op- 
pressed race  whom  they  compelled  to  minister  to  their 
love  of  gain.'^ 

Quite  as  uncertain  in  authority  and  less  elegant  in 
style  are  the  histories  of  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  — a gen- 
tle and  trusting  spirit  rather  than  a -wise  one ; proud 

13  “Conquista  de  lasIslasMolucas,”  probable  ; and  the  account  of  the  Pata- 
Madrid,  1609,  folio.  Pellicer,  Bib.  de  gonian  giants,  in  the  same  book,  turns 
Trad.,  Tom.  I.  p.  87.  The  love-story  out  to  be  almost  true,  like  some  of  the 
of  Durante,  an  ensign,  in  the  third  long-discredited  stories  of  Marco  Polo 
book  of  the  “ Conquista,”  is  good  and  and  Mendez  Pinto. 


156  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

of  being  a captain  in  the  service  of  the  king  of  Spain, 
and  allied,  as  a son  of  one  of  the  unscrupulous  con- 
querors of  Peru,  to  the  great  house  of  Infantado ; but 
always  betraying  the  weaker  nature  of  his  mother,  who 
was  of  the  blood  royal  of  the  Incas,  and  never  entirely 
forgetting  the  glories  of  his  Indian  race,  or  the  cruel 
injuries  they  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  Spain.  He 
was  born  at  “ Cuzco,  in  Peru,  the  seat  of  Atabalipa,” 
in  1540,  and  was  educated  there,  amidst  the  tumults  of 
the  conquest;  but,  when  he  was  twenty  years  old,  he 
was  sent  to  Spam,  where,  under  difficult  and  trying 
circumstances,  he  maintained  an  honorable  reputation 
during  a life  protracted  to  the  age  of  seventy-six. 

The  military  part  of  his  personal  history,  which  con- 
sisted of  service  under  Don  John  of  Austria  against  the 
Moriscos  of  Granada,  was  not  of  much  consequence, 
though  he  seems  to  have  valued  himself  upon  it  not  a 
little.  The  part  he  gave  to  letters  was  more  interesting 
and  important.  This  portion  he  began,  in  1590,  with  a 
translation  of  the  “ Dialogues  on  Love,”  by  Abarbanel, 
a Platonizing  Jew,  whose  family  had  been  expelled  from 
Spain  in  the  persecution  under  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
and  who  in  Italy  had  published  this  singular  work  un- 
der the  name  of  “ The  Hebrew  Lion.”  The  attempt,  so 
far  as  Garcilasso  was  concerned,  was  not  a fortunate 
one.  The  Dialogues,  which  enjoyed  considerable  popu- 
larity at  the  time,  had  been  already  printed  in  Spanish, 
— a fact  evidently  unknown  to  him ; and  though,  as 
it  appears  from  a subsequent  statement  by  himself,  he 
had  obtained  for  his  translation  the  favorable  regard  of 
Philip  the  Second,  still  there  was  an  odor  both  of  Juda- 
ism and  heathen  free-thinking  about  it,  that  rendered  it 
obnoxious  to  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  of  the  state. 
Garcilasso’s  first  work,  therefore,  was  speedily  placed 


Chap.  XXXVIII.]  THE  INCA  GARCILASSO. 


157 


on  the  Index  Expurgatorius,  and  was  rarely  heard  of 
afterwards. 

His  next  attempt  was  on  a subject  in  which  he  had 
a nearer  interest.  It  was  a “ History  of  Florida,”  or 
rather  of  the  first  discovery  of  that  country,  and  was 
published  in  1605,  — a work  which,  when,  twenty  years 
before,  he  spoke  of  writing  it,  he  appropriately  called 
“ The  Expedition  of  Fernando  de  Soto  ” ; since  the  ad- 
ventures of  that  extraordinary  man,  and  his  strange  fate, 
not  only  form  its  most  brilliant  and  attractive  portion, 
but  constitute  nearly  the  whole  of  its  substance.  In 
this  Garcilasso  was  more  successful  than  he  was  in  his 
version  from  the  Italian ; and  his  “ History  of  Florida,” 
as  it  is  still  called,  has  been  often  reprinted  since. 

But,  in  his  old  age,  his  heart  turned  more  and  more 
to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  his  youth,  and,  gather- 
ing together  the  few  materials  he  could  collect  from 
among  his  kinsmen  on  the  Pacific,  as  well  as  from  the 
stores  of  his  own  memory  and  the  records  already  accu- 
mulated in  Spain,  he  published,  in  1609,  the  first  part 
of  his  “ Commentaries  on  Peru  ” ; the  second  of  which, 
though  licensed  for  the  press  in  1613,  did  not  appear 
till  1617,  the  year  after  its  author’s  death.  It  is  a gar- 
rulous, gossiping  book,  written  in  a diffuse  style,  and 
abounding  in  matters  personal  to  himself.  In  its  very 
division,  he  acknowledges  frankly  the  conflicting  claims 
that  he  felt  were  upon  him.  The  earlier  half,  he  says, 
relates  to  the  eighteen  Incas  known  to  Peruvian  his- 
tory, and  contains  an  account  of  the  traditions  of  the 
country,  its  institutions,  manners,  and  general  charac- 
ter ; all  which  he  offers  as  a tribute  due  to  his  descent 
from  the  Children  of  the  Sun.  The  remainder  — which, 
with  many  episodes  and  much  irrelevant,  but  not  always 
unpleasant,  discussion,  contains  the  history  of  the  Span- 


158 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


ish  conquest,  and  of  the  quarrels  of  the  Spaniards  with 
each  other  growing  out  of  it  — he  offers,  in  like  man- 
ner, to  the  glories  of  the  great  Spanish  family  with 
which  he  was  connected,  and  which  numbered  on  its 
rolls  some  of  the  brightest  names  in  the  Castilian  an- 
nals. In  both  parts,  his  Commentaries  are  a striking 
and  interesting  book,  showing  much  of  the  spirit  of  the 
old  chronicles,  and  infected  with  even  more  than  the 
common  measure  of  chronicling  credulity ; since,  with  a 
natural  willingness  to  believe  whatever  fables  were  hon- 
orable to  the  land  of  his  birth,  he  mingles  a constant 
anxiety  to  show  that  he  is,  above  every  thing  else,  a 
Catholic  Christian,  whose  faith  was  much  too  ample  to 
reject  the  most  extravagant  legends  of  his  Church,  and 
too  pure  to  tolerate  the  idolatry  of  that  royal  ancestry 
which  he  yet  cannot  help  regarding  with  reverence  and 
admiration. 

The  publication,  in  1610,  of  “The  War  of  Granada,” 
by  Mendoza,  had  — as  might  have  been  anticipated  from 
its  attractive  subject  and  style  — an  effect  on  Spanish 
historical  composition ; producing,  in  the  course  of  the 


“ La  Traduccion  del  Indio  de  los 
Tres  Dialogos  de  Amor,  de  Leon  He- 
breo,  echado  de  Italiano  en  Espagnol, 
por  Garcilasso  Inga  de  la  Vega,”  Ma- 
drid, 1590,  4to.  A Spanish  transla- 
tion of  it,  which  I have  seen,  had  ap- 
peared at  Venice  in  1568,  and  I believe 
there  was  another  at  Zaragoza  in  1584, 
of  which  it  seems  strange  that  Garci- 
lasso knew  nothing.  (Barbosa,  Bib. 
Lus.,  Tom.  II.  p.  920;  Castro,  Bib., 
Tom.  I.  p.  371 ; and  Antonio,  Bib. 
Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  232.)  The  letter  of 
Garcilasso  to  Philip  II.,  with  addition- 
al remarks  by  its  author,  containing 
interesting  materials  for  his  own  life, 
is  prefixed  to  the  first  edition  of  the 
second  part  of  the  Commentaries  on 
Peru.  “La Florida”  was  printed  at 
Lisbon  in  1606,  4to  ; the  first  part  of 
the  Peru  at  Lisbon,  1609,  folio ; and 


the  second  part  at  Cordova,  1617, 
folio.  Both  of  the  historical  works  are 
to  be  found  in  several  other  editions, 
and  both  have  been  translated  into 
most  of  the  languages  of  modern 
Europe. 

Two  striking  examples  may  be 
given  of  the  opposite  kinds  of  that 
credulity  in  Garcilasso  which  so  much 
impairs  the  value  of  his  Commentaries. 
He  believed  that  the  subjection  of  Peru 
by  the  Spaniards  was  predicted  by  the 
last  of  the  Incas  that  reigned  before 
their  arrival,  (Parte  1.  Lib.  IX.  c. 
15,  and  Parte  11.  Lib.  VIII.  c.  18,) 
and  he  believed  that  all  the  Spaniards 
in  the  army  of  Peru,  who  were  notori- 
ous blasphemers,  perished  by  wounds 
in  the  mouth  (Parte  11. , Lib.  IV.  c. 
21). 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MOXCADA. 


159 


century,  several  imitations  more  Avorthy  of  notice  than 
any  thing  in  their  class  that  apjieared  after  the  great 
work  of  Mariana. 

The  first  of  them  is  by  Moncacla,  a nobleman  of  the 
highest  rank  in  the  South  of  Spain,  and  connected  Avith 
several  of  the  principal  families,  both  in  Catalonia  and 
Valencia.  His  father  Avas,  successwely,  viceroy  of  Sar- 
dinia and  Aragon ; he  himself  AA'as  governor  of  the  Loav 
Countries  and  commander-in-chief  of  the  armies  there; 
and  both  of  them  filled,  in  their  respective  times,  the 
most  important  of  the  Spanish  embassies.  But  the 
younger  Moncada  had  tastes  widely  ditferent  from  the 
cares  that  beset  his  life.  In  1623  he  publi.shed  his 
“ Expedition  of  the  Catalans  against  the  Turks  and 
Greeks”;  and  when  he  died,  in  1635,  just  after  put- 
ting to  rout  tAvo  hostile  armies,  he  left  seA'eral  other 
works,  of  less  value,  one  or  tAvo  of  Avhich  haA^e  since 
been  printed.  The  History  of  the  Catalan  Expedition, 
by  Avhich  alone  he  has  been  knoAvn  in  later  times,  is 
on  the  romantic  adventures  and  achieA'ements  of  an  ex- 
traordinary band  of  mercenaries,  aaIio,  under  Boger  de 
Elor,  — successively  a freebooter,  a great  admiral,  and  a 
Caesar  of  the  Eastern  Empire,  — drove  back  the  Turks, 
as  they  approached  the  Bosphorus  in  the  beginning  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  and  then,  after  being  for  some 
time  no  less  formidable  to  their  allies  than  they  had 
been  to  the  infidel,  settled  doAvn  into  a sort  of  uneasy 
tranquillity  at  Athens,  Avhere  their  historian  leaves  them. 

It  is  an  account,  therefore,  of  a most  AAuld  passage  in 
the  affairs  rather  of  the  IMiddle  Ages  than  of  the  Span- 
ish peninsula,  — one  that  may  be  trusted,  notAvithstand- 
ing  its  air  of  romance,  since  its  foundations  are  laid  in 
the  great  Avork  of  Zurita,  and  one  by  no  means  wanting 
in  picturesque  effect,  since  its  details  are  often  taken 


160 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


from  Ramon  Muntaner,  the  old  Catalan,  who  had  him- 
self shared  the  perils  of  this  very  expedition,  and  de- 
scribed them  in  his  own  Chronicle  with  his  accustomed 
spirit  and  vigor.  Parts  of  it  are  very  striking  in  them- 
selves, and  strikingly  told;  especially  the  rise  of  Roger 
de  Flor  till  he  had  reached  the  highest  place  a subject 
could  hold  in  the  Greek  empire,  and  then  his  assassina- 
tion in  the  presence  and  by  the  command  of  the  same 
Emperor  who  had  raised  him  so  high,  — his  blood  soil- 
ing the  imperial  table,  to  which,  with  treacherous  hos- 
pitality, he  had  been  invited.  The  whole  is  written  in 
a bold  and  free,  rather  than  in  a careful  style ; but  the 
coloring  is  well  suited  to  the  dark  ground-work  of  the 
picture,  and,  though  less  energetic  in  its  tone  than  Men- 
doza’s “ War  of  Granada,”  of  which,  from  the  first  sen- 
tence, we  see  it  is  an  imitation,  it  is  often  more  easy, 
flowing,  and  natural. 

Another  military  history  written  by  a nobleman  con- 
nected with  the  service  of  his  country,  both  in  its  armies 
and  its  diplomacy,  is  to  be  found  in  an  account  of  eleven 
campaigns  in  Flanders  by  Coloma,  Marquis  of  Espinar, 
published  in  1625.  A translation  which  he  made  of 
the  “ Annals  ” of  Tacitus  has  been  regarded  as  the  best 
in  the  language ; but,  in  his  own  work,  he  shows  no 
tendency  to  imitate  the  ancients.  On  the  contrary,  it  is, 
as  it  were,  fresh  from  the  fields  of  the  author’s  glory,  and 
full  of  the  honorable  feelings  of  a soldier,  sketching  the 
adventures  of  the  army  when  in  camp,  when  in  immedi- 
ate action,  and  when  in  winter-quarters ; and  adding  to 


“ Expedicion  de  los  Catalan es  con- 
tra Griegos  y Turcos,  por  Francisco  de 
Moncada,  Conde  de  Osona,”  Barcelo- 
na, 1623,  and  Madrid,  1772  and  1805, 
12mo.  There  is  an  edition,  also,  of 
Barcelona,  1842,  8vo,  edited  by  Don 
Taime  Tio,  with  a poem  at  the  end 


by  Calisto  Fernandez  Campo-redondo, 
which  is  on  the  same  subject  with  the 
History,  and  in  1841  gained  a prize  at 
Barcelona  for  its  success  at  a festival, 
that  reminds  us  of  the  days  of  the 
Floral  Games  and  of  the  Marquis  of 
Villena. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


COLOMA.  — MELO. 


161 


his  main  narrative  occasional  glimpses  of  the  negotia- 
tions then  going  on  in  the  Low  Countries  respecting 
Spanish  affairs,  and  of  the  intrigues  of  the  courtiers 
at  Madrid  round  the  death-bed  of  Philip  the  Second. 
The  style  of  Coloma  is  unequal ; but  much  of  what  he 
describes  he  had  seen,  and  the  rest  had  passed  within 
the  compass  of  what  he  deemed  sure  information ; so  that 
he  speaks,  not  only  with  authority,  but  with  the  natural 
vivacity  which  comes  from  being  so  near  the  events  he 
records,  that  their  color  is  imparted  to  his  language.’® 

To  the  same  class  with  the  last  belongs  the  spirited 
history  of  a portion  of  the  Catalan  rebellion  in  the  time 
of  Philip  the  Fourth.  It  was  written  by  Melo,  a Portu- 
guese gentleman,  who  remained  attached  to  the  seindce 
of  Spain  till  1640-41,  when  he  joined  the  standard 
of  the  Braganzas,  and  fought  for  the  independence  of 
his  own  country.  His  life,  which  extended  from  1611 
to  1667,  was  full  of  adventure.  He  was  in  the  dreadful 
tempest  of  1627,  when  the  whole  navy,  as  it  were,  of 
Portugal  suffered  shipwreck;  and  it  fell  to  his  lot  to 
bury  above  two  thousand  bodies  of  those  Avho  had  per- 
ished in  the  waves,  from  which  he  himself  had  hardly 
escaped.  He  was  in  the  wars  of  Flanders  and  of  Cata- 
lonia. Twelve  years  he  was  in  prison  in  his  own  coun- 
try, under  an  accusation  of  murder  that  was  at  last 
proved  to  be  without  foundation ; and  six  years  he  was 
an  exile  in  Brazil.  But  under  all  circumstances,  and 
through  all  his  trials,  he  sought  consolation  in  letters. 
His  published  works,  in  prose  and  verse,  in  Spanish 
and  in  Portuguese,  some  of  which  have  been  already 
noticed,  exceed  a hundred  volumes,  and  the  unpublished 

'6  “Las  Guerras  de  los  Estados  Tom.  I.  p.  338.  He  was  ambassador 
Baxos,  desde  Maio,  1588,  hasta  el  to  James  I.  of  England,  viceroy  of 
Ano  1599,”  Amberes,  1625  and  1635,  Majorca,  etc.,  and  died  in  1637,  sixty- 
4to,  and  Barcelona,  1627.  Ximeno,  four  years  old. 

VOL.  III.  21 


162 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


would  materially  increase  even  this  vast  amount.  What 
is  more  remarkable,  he  is,  in  both  languages,  admitted 
to  the  honors  of  a classic  writer. 

His  “ History  of  the  War  of  Catalonia,”  which  em- 
braces only  the  short  period  during  which  he  served  in 
it,  was  written  while  he  was  in  prison,  and  was  first 
published  in  1645.  Owing  to  political  causes,  he  did 
not  give  his  name  to  it ; and  when  one  of  his  friends  in 
a letter  expressed  surprise  at  this  circumstance,  he  an- 
swered, with  a characteristic  turn  of  phrase,  “ The  book 
loses  nothing  for  want  of  my  name,  and  I shall  lose 
nothing  for  want  of  the  book.”  It  was,  however,  suc- 
cessfid.  The  accounts  of  the  first  outbreak  in  Barce- 
lona, on  the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi,  when  the  city 
was  thronged  with  the  bold  peasantry  of  the  interior; 
the  subsequent  strife  of  the  exasperated  factions;  the 
debates  in  the  Junta  of  Catalonia,  and  those  in  the 
king’s  council,  under  the  leading  of  the  Count  Duke 
Olivares ; and  the  closing  scene  of  the  whole,  — the  in- 
efiectual  storming  of  the  grand  fortress  of  Mon  Juich  by 
the  royal  forces,  and  the  disastrous  retreat  that  followed, 
— are  all  given  with  a freshness  and  power  that  could 
come  only  from  one  who  had  shared  in  the  feelings  he 
describes,  and  had  witnessed  the  very  movements  he  sets 
with  such  a lifelike  spirit  before  us.  His  style,  too,  is 
suited  to  his  varying  subjects  ; sometimes  animated  and 
forcible,  sometimes  quaint  and  idiomatic,  and  sometimes 
in  its  dark  hints  and  abrupt  turns  reminding  us  of  Taci- 
tus. But  the  work  is  short,  — not  longer  than  that  of 
Mendoza,  which  was  its  model,  — and  it  covers  only  the 
space  of  about  six  months  at  the  end  of  1640  and  the 
beginning  of  1641. 

Whether  Melo  intended  to  carry  his  narrative  farther 
is  uncertain.  From  his  striking  conclusion,  where  he 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


MELO. 


163 


says,  “The  events  that  followed— greater  in  themselves 
than  those  I have  related  — are  perhaps  reserved  for  a 
greater  historian,”  we  might  infer  that  he  was  desirous 
to  describe  only  what  he  had  witnessed.  But,  on  the 
other  side,  in  his  Preface  we  have  the  following  charac- 
teristic address  to  his  readers,  alluding  to  the  conceal- 
ment of  his  name  as  the  author  of  the  work  he  offers 
them.  “ If  in  any  thing  I have  served  you,  I ask  only 
that  you  would  not  endeavour  to  know  more  of  me 
than  it  pleases  my  humor  to  tell  you.  I present  to  you 
my  faithfid  opinion  of  things,  just  as  it  has  been  my  lot 
to  form  it ; — I do  not  present  myself  to  you ; for  a 
knowledge  of  my  person  is  not  necessary  to  enable  you 
to  judge  either  kindly  or  harshly  of  what  I have  writ- 
ten. If  I do  not  please  you,  read  me  no  further ; — if 
I do,  I make  no  claims  on  your  gratitude.  I speak 
without  fear  and  without  vanity.  The  theatre  before 
us  is  vast;  the  tragedy  long.  We  shall  meet  again. 
You  mil  know  me  by  my  voice ; I shall  know  you  by 
your  judgment.”  But,  whatever  may  have  been  Melo’s 
original  intentions,  he  survived  the  publication  of  this 
interesting  work  above  twenty  years,  and  yet  added 
nothing  to  its  pages.^^ 

From  this  period,  prose  composition,  which  had  been 
long  infected  with  the  bad  taste  of  the  age,  suffered  a 


“ Historia  de  los  Movimientos, 
Separacion,  y Guerra  de  Cataluna,  por 
Francisco  Manuel  de  Melo,”  Lisboa, 
1645,  and  several  other  editions ; one 
by  Sanchez,  1808,  12mo,  and  one  at 
Paris,  1830.  His  poetry  in  Spanish 
has  been  mentioned,  ante,  II.  529.  For 
his  life  and  multitudinous  works,  see 
the  “ Bibliotheca  Lusitana”  of  Diogo 
Barbosa  Machado,  (Lisboa,  1741  - 
59,  4 tom.  folio,)  which  I have  often 
referred  to,  as  to  the  great  authority 
on  all  matters  of  fact  in  Portuguese 
literary  history,  though  of  little  or 


no  value  for  the  literary  opinions  it 
expresses.  It  is  one  of  the  amplest 
and  most  important  works  of  literary 
biography  and  bibliography  ever  pub- 
lished ; but,  unhappily,  it  is  also  one 
of  the  rarest,  a large  part  of  the  im- 
pression of  the  first  three  volumes 
having  been  destroyed  in  the  fire  that 
followed  the  great  earthquake  at  Lis- 
bon in  1755.  Its  author,  who  gives 
some  account  of  himself  in  his  own 
work,  was  born  in  1682,  and  died,  I 
believe,  in  1770. 


164  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 

still  further  and  more  marked  decline.  Saavedra  Faxar- 
do,  indeed,  who  lived  forty  years  out  of  Spain,  employed 
in  diplomatic  missions,  was  educated  in  a better  school, 
and  formed  himself  on  more  worthy  models,  than  he 
could  have  found  among  his  contemporaries  at  home; 
but  his  “ History  of  the  Goths  in  Spain  ” is  an  im- 
perfect work,  published  in  1646,  at  Munster,  when 
he  was  there  as  a member  of  the  congress  that  made 
the  peace  of  Westphalia,  and  was  left  unfinished  at 
his  death,  which  occurred  at  Madrid  two  years  later.^^ 
The  only  historian  of  eminence  that  remains  to  be  no- 
ticed in  this  period  is,  therefore,  Solis. 

Of  him  we  have  already  spoken  as  a lyrical  poet  and  a 
dramatist,  who  in  1667  had  retired  from  the  world,  and 
dedicated  himself  to  the  separate  service  of  religion. 
He  was,  however,  the  official  historiographer  of  the 
Indies,  and  thought  himself  bound  to  do  something  in 
fulfilment  of  the  duties  of  an  office  to  which,  perhaps, 
a nominal  income  was  attached.  He  chose  for  his  sub- 
ject “ The  Conquest  of  Mexico,”  and,  beginning  with 
the  condition  of  Spain  when  it  was  undertaken,  and  the 
appointment  of  Cortes  to  command  the  invadiug  force, 
he  brings  his  history  down  to  the  fall  of  the  city  and 
the  capture  of  Guatimozin.  The  period  it  embraces  is, 
indeed,  short,  — less  than  three  years ; but  they  are 
years  so  crowded  with  brilliant  adventures  and  atro- 
cious crimes,  that  hardly  any  portion  of  the  history  of 
the  world  is  of  equal  interest.  The  subject,  too,  from 
this  circumstance,  is  more  easily  managed;  and  Solis, 
who  looked  upon  it  with  the  eye  of  an  artist,  as  well  as 
of  an  historian,  has  succeeded  in  giving  his  work,  to 

18  The  work  of  Saavedra  was  con-  volumes  in  the  edition  of  Madrid, 
tinned,  very  poorly,  by  Alonso  Nunez  1789-90,  12mo,  of  which  the  first 
de  Castro,  through  the  reign  of  Henry  two  only,  coming  down  to  716,  are 
II.,  the  labors  of  both  making  seven  by  Saavedra. 


Chap.  XXXVIII.] 


SOLIS. 


165 


an  extraordinary  degree,  the  air  of  an  historical  epic ; — 
so  exactly  are  all  its  parts  and  episodes  modelled  into 
an  harmonious  whole,  whose  catastrophe  is  the  fall  of 
the  great  Mexican  empire. 

The  style  of  Solis  is  somewhat  peculiar.  That  he 
had  the  Eoman  historians,  and  especially  Livy,  before 
him,  as  he  wrote,  is  apparent  both  in  the  general  air  of 
his  work  and  in  the  structure  of  its  individual  sen- 
tences. Yet  there  are  few  writers  of  Spanish  prose 
who  are  more  absolutely  Castilian  in  their  idiom  than 
he  is.  His  language,  if  not  simple,  is  rich  and  beauti- 
ful; suited  to  the  romantic  subject  he  had  chosen  for 
his  history,  and  deeply  imbued  with  its  poetical  spirit. 
In  boldness  of  manner  he  falls  below  Mendoza,  and  in 
dignity  is  not  equal  to  Mariana;  but  for  copious  and 
sustained  eloquence,  he  may  be  placed  by  the  side  of 
either  of  them.  That  his  work  is  as  interesting  as 
either  of  theirs  is  proved  by  the  unimpaired  popularity 
it  has  enjoyed  from  its  first  appearance  down  to  our 
own  times. 

The  Conquest  of  Mexico  was  written  in  the  old 
age  of  its  author,  and  is  darkened  by  the  feelings  that 
shut  him  out  from  the  interests  and  cares  of  the  world. 
He  refused  to  see  the  fierce  and  marvellous  contest 
which  he  recorded,  except  from  the  steps  of  the  altar 
where  he  had  been  consecrated.  The  Spaniards,  there- 
fore, are  in  his  eyes  only  Christians ; the  Mexicans,  only 
heathen.  The  battle  he  witnesses  and  describes  is  whol- 
ly between  the  powers  of  light  and  the  legions  of  dark- 
ness ; and  the  unhappy  Indians,  — whom  the  Spaniards 
had  no  more  right  to  invade,  in  order  to  root  out  re- 
ligious abominations,  of  which  they  had  never  heard 
till  after  their  landing,  than  Henry  the  Eighth  or  Eliz- 
abeth had  to  invade  Spain,  in  order  to  root  out  the 


166 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


abominations  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition,  — the  unhap- 
py Indians  receive  none  of  the  historian’s  sympathy  in 
the  extremity  of  suffering  they  underwent  during  their 
vain,  but  heroic,  struggle  for  all  that  could  make  exist- 
ence valuable  in  their  eyes. 

The  work  of  Solis,  beautifully  written  and  flattering 
to  the  national  vanity,  was  at  once  successful.  But  suc- 
cess was  then  a word  whose  meaning  was  different  from 
that  which  it  bears  now,  or  had  borne  in  Spain  m the 
time  of  Lope  de  Vega.  The  publication,  whicn  took 
place  in  1684,  by  the  assistance  of  a friend  who  de- 
frayed the  charges,  found  its  author  poor  and  left  hun 
so.  On  this  point  there  are  passages  in  his  corresjDond- 
ence  which  it  is  painful  to  read ; — one,  for  instance, 
where  he  says,  “ I have  many  creditors  who  would  stop 
me  in  the  street,  if  they  saw  I had  new  shoes  on  ” ; and 
another,  where  he  asks  a friend  for  a warm  garment  to 
protect  him  from  the  winter’s  cold.  Still  he  was  grati- 
fied at  the  applause  with  which  his  work  was  received, 
though,  at  the  end  of  a year,  only  two  hundred  copies 
had  been  sold.  Two  years  afterwards  he  died,  at  the 
age  of  seventy-six,  “ leaving,”  in  the  technical  phrase 
and  the  technical  habit  of  the  time,  “ his  soul  to  be  the 
only  heir  of  his  body,”  or,  in  other  words,  giving  the 
remnants  of  his  poverty  to  purchase  expiatory  masses.'® 
Diego  de  Tovar,  the  same  ecclesiastic  who  had  been 
confessor  to  Quevedo  and  Nicolas  Antonio,  stood  by 
the  bedside  of  the  dying  man,  and  consoled  the  last 
moments  of  Solis,  as  he  had  consoled  theirs.^® 

Mad.  d’Aulnoy  (Voyage,  ed.  that  of  Madrid,  1654,  folio,  and  the 
1693,  Tom.  II.  pp.  17,  18)  explains  best  in  two  vols.  4to,  Madrid,  1783. 
this  custom,  and  shows  to  what  an  The  author  of  the  life  prefixed  to  his 
absurd  and  ridiculous  length  it  was  poems  says  : “ Solis  left  materials  for 
carried  in  the  time  of  Solis.  a continuation  of  the  History  of  Mexi- 

co There  are  many  editions  of  the  co,  but  they  are  not  now  knownti  to  ex- 
“ Conquistade  Mexico,”  the  first  being  ist.”  A few  of  his  letters,  with  a 


Chap.  XXXVIII.]  CHARACTER  OF  SPANISH  HISTORIANS.  167 

Solis  was  the  last  of  the  good  writers  in  the  elder 
school  of  Spanish  history ; — a school  which,  even  dur- 
ing its  best  days,  numbered  but  few  names,  and  which, 
now  that  the  whole  literature  of  the  country  was  decay- 
ing, shared  the  general  fate.  Nor  could  it  be  otherwise. 
The  spirit  of  political  tyranny  in  the  government,  and 
of  religions  tyranny  in  the  Inquisition,  — now  closer 
than  ever  united,  — were  more  hostile  to  bold  and  faith- 
ful incj[uiry  in  the  department  of  history  than  in  almost 
any  other ; so  that  the  generous  national  independence 
and  honesty  announced  in  the  old  chronicles  were  stop- 
ped midway  in  their  career,  before  half  of  their  power 
had  been  put  forth. 

Still,  as  we  have  seen,  several  of  the  historians  that 
were  produced  even  under  the  overshadowing  influence 
of  the  Austrian  family  were  not  unworthy  of  the  nation- 
al character.  Mariana  shows  much  manly  flrmness,  Solis 
much  fervor,  Zurita  much  conscientious  diligence,  while 
Mendoza,  Moncada,  Coloma,  and  Melo,  who  conflned 
themselves  to  subjects  embracing  shorter  periods  and 
less  wide  interests,  have  given  us  some  of  the  most 
striking  sketches  to  be  found  in  the  historical  literature 
of  any  country.  All  of  them  are  rich  and  dignified, 
abounding  rather  m feeling  than  philosophy,  and  writ- 
ten in  a tone  and  style  that  mark,  not  so  much,  per- 
haps, the  peculiar  genius  of  their  respective  authors,  as 
that  of  the  country  that  gave  them  birth ; so  that, 
though  they  may  not  be  entirely  classical,  they  are 
entirely  Spanish ; and  what  they  want  in  finish  and 
grace,  they  make  up  in  picturesqueness  and  origi- 
nality.^^ 

sketch  of  his  life,  by  Mayans  y Siscar,  les,”  etc.,  1773.  See,  arafe,  II.  420, 
were  published,  as  I have  already  no-  549,  III.  130. 

ticed,  in  1733.  They  appear  again,  From  the  times  of  Charles  V. 

carefully  revised,  in  the  “ Cartas  Mora-  and  Philip  II.,  when,  in  Aragon  and 


168 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


Castile,  chroniclers  were  multiplied  as 
a part  of  the  pageantry  of  the  court, 
the  rest  of  the  kingdoms  that  entered 
into  the  united  Spanish  monarchy  be- 
gan to  desire  to  have  their  own  sepa- 
rate histories,  as  we  can  see  in  Valen- 
cia, where  those  of  Beuter,  Escolano, 
and  Diago  were  written.  Besides 
this,  a great  number  of  the  individual 
cities  obtained  their  own  separate  an- 
nals from  the  hand  of  at  least  one  au- 
thor,— sometimes  works  of  authority, 
like  that  on  Segovia  by  Colmenares, 
and  that  on  Seville  by  Avila  y Zuniga. 
But  though  more  of  such  local  histo- 
ries were  written  in  Spain  between 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  and  the 
end  of  the  seventeenth  centuries,  than 
were  written  during  the  same  period, 
I believe,  in  any  other  country  in  Eu- 
rope, none  of  them,  so  far  as  I know, 
has  such  peculiar  merit  as  to  be  no- 
ticeable in  the  literary  history  of  the 
country.  Still,  the  spirit  that  produc- 
ed them  in  such  great  numbers,  and 
especially  the  spirit  which,  during  the 
reign  of  Philip  II.,  made,  with  so  much 
care  and  cost,  the  vast  collections  of 
documents  yet  to  be  found  in  the  Cas- 
tle of  Simancas  and  the  convent  of  the 
Escurial,  should  not  be  overlooked. 

When  the  chapter  on  the  Chronicles 
of  the  fifteenth  century  (First  Period, 
Chap.  IX.)  was  printed,  I had  not  seen 
the  Chronicle  by  the  Prince  of  Viana, 
“ Cronica  de  los  Reyes  de  Navarra,” 
— of  which  there  is  only  one  edition, 
that  of  Pamplona,  1843,  4to,  by  Don 
Jose  Yanguas  y Miranda.  It  was 


written  in  1454  by  the  Prince  Don 
Carlos,  to  whom  I have  already  allud- 
ed, (Vol.  I.  p.  332,  note,)  who  died, 
forty  years  old,  in  1461,  and  whose 
translation  of  Aristotle’s  Ethics  was 
printed  at  Saragossa  in  1509.  (Men- 
dez, T^ographia,  1796,  p.  193.)  The 
Chronicle  was  carefully  prepared  for 
publication  from  four  manuscripts,  and 
it  embraces  the  history  of  Navarre  from 
the  earliest  times  to  the  accession  of 
Charles  III.  in  1390,  noticing  a few 
events  in  the  beginning  of  the  next  cen- 
tury. Besides  the  life  of  the  author, 
it  makes  about  200  pages,  written  in  a 
modest,  simple  style,  but  not  so  good 
as  that  of  some  of  the  contemporary 
Castilian  chronicles.  A few  of  the 
old  traditions  concerning  the  little 
mountain  kingdom,  whose  early  annals 
it  records,  are,  however,  well  preserv- 
ed ; some  of  them  being  told  as  they 
are  found  in  the  General  Chronicle  of 
Spain,  and  some  with  additions  or 
changes.  The  portions  where  I have 
observed  most  traces  of  connection  be- 
tween the  two  are  in  the  Chronicle  of 
the  Prince  of  Viana,  Book  I.  chapters 
9 - 14,  as  compared  with  the  latter 
portion  of  the  General  Chronicle, 
Part  HI.  Sometimes  the  Prince  de- 
viates from  all  received  accounts,  as 
when  he  calls  Cava  the  ivife  of  Count 
Julian,  instead  of  calling  her  his  daugh- 
ter; but,  on  the  whole,  his  Chronicle 
agrees  with  the  common  traditions  and 
histories  of  the  period  to  which  it  re- 
lates. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


Proverbs  ; Santillana,  Garay,  NuiJez,  Mal  Lara,  Palmireno,  Obdin, 
Scrap  AN,  Cejudo,  Yriarte. — Didactic  Prose:  Torquemada,  Acosta, 
Luis  de  Granada,  Juan  de  la  Cruz,  Santa  Teresa,  Malon  de  Chaide, 
Roxas,  Figueroa,  Marquez,  Vera  y Zuniga,  Navarrete,  Saave- 
dra, Quevedo,  Antonio  de  Vega,  Nieremberg,  Guzman,  Dantisco, 
Andrada,  Villalobos,  Paton,  Aleman,  Faria  y Sousa,  Francisco 
DE  Portugal.  — Gongorism  in  Prose  : Gracian,  Zabaleta,  Lozano, 
Heredia,  Ramirez.  — Failure  of  good  Didactic  Prose. 


The  last  department  in  the  literature  of  any  country, 
that  comes  within  the  jurisdiction  of  criticism  on  ac- 
count of  its  style,  is  that  of  Didactic  Prose;  since  in 
this  branch,  so  remote  from  every  thing  poetical,  the 
ornaments  of  manner  are  more  accidental  than  they  are 
elsewhere,  and,  beyond  it,  are  not  at  all  to  be  exacted. 
In  modern  times,  the  French  seem  to  have  been  more 
anxious  than  any  other  nation,  not  excepting  even  the 
Italians,  to  add  the  grace  of  an  elegant  style  to  their 
didactic  prose,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  none  have 
been  more  unsuccessful  than  the  Spaniards  in  their 
attempts  to  cultivate  it. 

In  one  particular  form  of  didactic  composition,  how- 
ever, Spain  stands  in  advance  of  all  other  countries ; 
I mean  that  of  Proverbs,  which  Cervantes  has  happily 
called  “ short  sentences  drawn  from  long  experience.”  ^ 
Spanish  proverbs  can  be  traced  back  to  the  earliest 


VOL.  III. 


1 Don  Quixote,  Parte  1.  c.  39. 

22 


o 


170 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


times.  One  of  the  best  known  — “ Laws  go  where 
kings  please  they  should  ” — is  connected  with  an  event 
of  importance  in  the  reign  of  Alfonso  the  Sixth,  who 
died  in  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  when  the 
language  of  Castile  had  hardly  a distinct  existence.^ 
Another  has  been  traced  to  a custom  belonging  to  the 
days  of  the  Infantes  de  Lara,  and  is  itself  probably  of 
not  much  later  date.^  Others  are  found  in  the  General 
Chronicle,  which  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  Spanish  prose 
compositions,  and  among  them  is  the  happy  one  on 
disappointed  expectations,  cited  in  Don  Quixote  more 
than  once:  “He  went  for  wool  and  came  back  shorn.”'* 
Several  occur  in  the  “ Conde  Lucanor”  of  Don  John 
Manuel,^  and  many  in  the  poetry  of  the  Archpriest 
of  Hita,°  both  of  whom  lived  in  the  time  of  Alfonso 
the  Eleventh. 

Thus  far,  however,  we  have  only  separate  and  iso- 
lated sayings,  evidently  belonging  to  the  old  Spanish 
race,  and  always  used  as  if  quite  familiar  and  notorious. 
But  in  the  reign  of  John  the  Second,  and  at  his  re- 
quest, the  Marquis  of  Santillana  collected  a hundred 


2  In  the  great  contest  between  the 
two  liturgies,  the  Roman  and  the 
Gothic,  which  disturbed  the  Church 
of  Spain  for  so  long  a period,  Alfon- 
so VI.  determined  to  throw  a copy  of 
each  into  a fire  duly  kindled  and  bless- 
ed for  the  purpose,  and  give  the  su- 
premacy to  the  one  that  should  come 
out  unconsumed.  The  Gothic  MS. 
was  successful ; but  the  king  broke  his 
word,  and  tossed  it  back  into  the  flames, 
thus  giving  rise,  it  is  said,  to  the  prov- 
erb, “Alla  van  leyes  adonde  quieren 
reyes  ” ; or,  freely  translated,  “ Laws 
obey  kings.”  (Sarmiento,  ^ 411.)  A 
similar  historical  origin  is  given  to 
the  proverb,  “ Ni  quite  rey,  ni  pongo 
rey  ’ ’ ; which  is  traced  to  the  personal 
quarrel  of  Peter  the  Cruel  and  his 
brother  and  successor,  Pon  Enrique. 


Clemencin,  ed.  Don  Quixote,  Tom. 
VI.,  1839,  p.  225. 

3 Dissertation  of  Cortes  in  Mayans 
y Siscar,  Orlgenes,  Tom.  II.  p.  211. 

4 Chronica  General,  1604,  Parte  III. 
f.  61,  and  Don  Quixote,  Parte  I.  c.  7. 

5 For  example  : “ Ayudad  vos,  y 
Dios  ayudarvos  ha,” — “Help  yourself 
and  God  will  help  you,”  — near  the 
end  ; and  “ El  Bien  nunca  muere,”  — 
“ Good  never  dies,”  — which  is  in  the 
first  tale. 

® “ Quien  en  P arenal  sembra,  non 
trillapegujares,”  — “He  that  sows  on 
the  sea-beach  reaps  little  for  himself.” 
Stanza  160.  Pegujares,  a singular 
word,  which  occurs  once  in  Don  Quix- 
ote, is  said  by  Clemencin  (Tom.  IV. 
p.  34)  to  come  from  peculio.  See,  also, 
Partida  IV.  Titulo  xvii.  Ley  7. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


PROVERBS. 


171 


in  rhyme,  which  we  have  already  noticed,  besides  above 
six  hundred,  he  says,  such  as  the  old  women  were  wont 
to  repeat  in  their  chimney-corners.  From  this  period, 
therefore,  or  rather  from  1508,  when  this  collection  was 
published,  the  old  and  wise  proverbs  of  the  language 
may  be  regarded  as  having  obtained  a settled  place  in 
its  didactic  literature.^ 

The  number  of  proverbs,  indeed,  was  soon  so  great,  — 
not  only  those  floating  about  in  the  common  talk  of 
men,  but  those  collected  and  printed,  — that  they  began 
to  be  turned  to  account.  Garay,  who  was  attached  to 
the  cathedral  of  Toledo,  and  therefore  lived  in  the 
centre  of  whatever  was  peculiarly  Castilian,  wrote  a 
long  letter,  every  sentence  of  which  was  a popular  say- 
ing; to  which  he  added  two  similar  letters,  found,  as 
he  says,  by  accident,  and  made  up,  in  the  same  way,  of 
proverbs.®  But,  in  the  middle  of  the  century,  a still 
higher  honor  awaited  the  old  Spanish  adages.  Pedro 
Falles,  Avho  wrote  the  history  of  the  great  Marquis  of 
Pescara,  published  an  alphabetical  series  of  four  thou- 
sand three  hundred  of  them  in  1549;  and  the  famous 
Greek  scholar  and  distinguished  nobleman,  Hernan 
Nunez  de  Guzman,  Professor  successively  at  Alcala 

and  at  Salamanca,  found  amusement  for  his  old  age 

\ 

Reprinted  in  Mayans,  Origenes,  tion  I have  seen  is  that  of  Venice, 
Tom.  II.  pp.  179-210.  See  also,  1553,  12mo ; probably  not  the  first, 
the  Proverbs  from  Seneca  by  Pero  The  second  of  the  letters  of  Garay  is 
Diaz,  mentioned  in  note  33  to  Period  not  in  proverbs,  and,  in  this  edition, 
I.  chap.  19,  and  pp.  376,  377,  of  Vol.  I.  is  followed  by  a devout  prayer;  the 
8 I have  never  seen  the  Proverbs  whole  being  intended,  as  the  author 
collected  by  Pedro  Valles,  the  Arago-  says,  “to  win  the  attention  not  so 
nese,  but  Mayans  y Siscar  had  in  his  much  of  the  wise  as  of  those  who  are 
library  a copy  of  them,  which  is  de-  wont  to  read  nothing  but  Celestina 
scribed  in  the  “ Specimen  Bibliothecse  and  such  like  books.”  The  “ Prover- 
Hispano-Majansianae,  etc.,  ex  Musaeo  bios”  of  Francisco  de  Castilla,  in  the 
Davidis  dementis,”  Hannoverae,  1753,  volume  with  his  “ Theorica  de  Vir- 
4to,  p.  67.  The  “ Cartas  de  Blasco  tudes,”  (1552,  tf.  64-69,)  are  not  prov- 
de  Garay  ” have  been  often  printed  ; erbs,  but  an  exhortation  in  verse  to  a 
but  the  oldest  and  most  complete  edi-  wise  and  holy  life. 


172 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 


in  making  another  series  of  them,  which  amounted  in  all 
to  above  six  thousand.  To  some  he  added  explanations ; 
to  others,  various  parallel  sayings  from  different  lan- 
guages ; but,  finding  his  strength  fail  him,  he  gave  the 
task  to  a friend,  who,  like  himself,  was  a Professor  in 
Salamanca,  and  who  published  the  whole  in  1555,  two 
years  after  the  death  of  Nunez ; rather,  as  he  intimates, 
from  respect  to  the  person  from  whom  he  received  it, 
than  from  regard  to  the  dignity  of  the  employment.® 
Out  of  these  proverbs,  another  of  the  friends  of  Her- 
nan  Nunez  — Mai  Lara,  a Sevilian  — selected  a thou- 
sand, and,  adding  a commentary  to  each,  published  them 
in  1568,  under  the  not  inappropriate  title  of  “ Philoso- 
phy of  the  Common  People  ” ; a volume  which,  notwith- 
standing its  cumbersome  learning,  can  be  read  with 
pleasure,  both  for  the  style  in  which  many  parts  of  it  are 
written,  and  for  the  unusual  historical  anecdotes  with 
which  it  abounds.  Another  collection,  made  by  Pal- 
mireno,  a Valencian,  in  1569,  consisting  of  above  two 
hundred  proverbs  appropriate  to  the  table,  shows  how 
abundant  popular  aphorisms  must  be  in  a language 
that  can  furnish  so  many  on  one  subject.  Yet  another, 
by  Oudin,  was  published  at  Paris  in  1608,  for  the  use 
of  foreigners,  and  shows  no  less  plainly  how  much  the 
Spanish  had  become  spread  throughout  Europe.  Sora- 
pan,  in  1616  and  1617,  published  two  collections,  in 
which  it  was  intended  that  the  condensation  of  popular 
experience  and  wisdom,  should  teach  medicine,  as,  in 
the  hands  of  Mai  Lara,  they  had  been  made  to  teach 
the  philosophy  of  life.  And,  finally,  in  1675,  Cejudo,  a 

9 “ Refranes,  etc.,  que  coligio  y that  the  volume  was  printed  during 
gloso,  el  Comendador,  Hernan  Nunez,  the  life  of  Nutiez,  who  died  in  1553  ; 
Profesor  de  Retorica  en  la  Universidad  but  I find  no  edition  older  than  that 
de  Salamanca,”  Madrid,  1619,  4to.  of  1555.  See  the  note  of  Pellicer  to 
The  preface,  by  Leo  de  Castro,  implies  Don  Quixote,  Parte  II.  c.  34. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


PROVERBS. 


173 


schoolmaster  of  Val  de  Penas,  gave  the  world  about  six 
thousand,  with  the  corresponding  Latm  adages,  when- 
ever he  could  find  them,  and  with  explanations  more 
satisfactory  than  had  been  furnished  by  his  predeces- 
sorsd° 

Still,  though  so  many  thousands  have  been  collected, 
many  thousands  still  remam  unpublished,  known  only 
among  the  traditions  of  the  humbler  classes  of  society, 
that  have  given  birth  to  them  all.  Juan  de  Yriarte,  a 
learned  man,  who  was  nearly  forty  years  at  the  head 
of  the  King’s  Library  at  Madrid,  collected,  about  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  no  less  than  twenty- 
four  thousand ; and  yet  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
a single  individual,  however  industrious,  living  in  Ma- 
drid, could  exhaust  their  number,  as  they  belong  rather 
to  the  provinces  than  to  the  capital,  and  are  spread 
everywhere  among  the  common  people,  and  through  all 
their  dialects. “ 

MTiy  proverbs  should  abound  so  much  more  in  Spam 
than  in  any  other  country  of  Christendom,  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  tell.  Perhaps  the  Arabs,  whose  language  is 
rich  in  such  wisdom,  may  have  furnished  some  of  them ; 


10  “La  Filosofia  Vulgar  de  Juan 
de  Mai  Lara,  Vezino  de  Sevilla,”  (Se- 
villa, 1558,  Madrid,  1618, 4to,  etc.,)  — 
a person  of  note  in  his  time,  whom  we 
have  mentioned  {ante,  II.  26)  among 
the  dramatic  poets,  and  who  died  in 
1571,  forty-four  years  old.  (Seman. 
Pintoresco,  1845,  p.  34.)  The  col- 
lection of  Lorenzo  Palmireno  is  re- 
printed in  the  fourth  volume  of  Nuiiez, 
ed.  Madrid,  1804,  12mo.  Oudin’s 
collection  was  reprinted  at  Brussels  in 
1611, 12mo.  Juan  Sorapande  Rieros, 
“ Medecina  Espailola,  en  Proverbios 
Vulgares  de  Nuestra  Lengua,”  was 
printed  at  Granada,  1616-17,  4to, 
in  two  parts.  “ Refranes  Castellanos 
con  Latinos,  etc.,  por  el  Licenciado 


Geronimo  Martin  Caro  y Cejudo,” 
Madrid,  1675,  4to ; reprinted  1792. 
I do  not  notice  the  “ Apotegmas  ” of 
Juan  Rufo,  (1596,)  nor  the  “ Floresta 
de  Apotegmas  of  Santa  Cruz,”  (first 
printed  in  1574,  and  often  afterwards ; 
e.  g.  Bruselas,  1629,)  — the  last  of 
which  is  a pleasant  book,  praised 
by  Lope  de  Vega  in  his  first  tale, — 
because  both  of  them  are  rather  jest- 
books  than  collections  of  proverbs. 
The  “ Proverbios  Morales  ” of  Christ. 
Perez  de  Herrera  (Madrid,  1618,  4to) 
are  in  rhyme,  and  too  poor  to  deserve 
notice,  even  if  they  had  been  in  prose. 

It  Vargas  y Ponce,  Declamacion, 
Madrid,  1793,  4to,  App.,  p.  93. 


174  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

or  perhaps  the  whole  mass  may  have  sprung  from  the 
original  soil  of  the  less  cultivated  classes  of  Spanish 
society.  But  however  this  may  be,  we  know  they  are 
often  among  the  pleasantest  and  most  characteristic  or- 
naments of  the  national  literature;  and  those  who  are 
most  familiar  with  them  will  be  most  ready  to  agree 
with  the  wise  author  of  the  “ Dialogue  on  Languages,” 
when  he  says,  and  repeats  the  remark,  that  we  must  go 
to  the  old  national  proverbs  for  what  is  purest  in  his 
native  Castilian.’^ 


Turning  now  to  the  proper  Didactic  prose  of  Spanish 
literature,  the  first  instance  we  find  — after  those  for- 
merly noticed  as  imitating  the  Italian  philosophical  dis- 
cussions of  the  sixteenth  century  — is  one  that  comes 
near  to  the  borders  of  fiction.  It  is  “ The  Garden  of 
Curious  Flowers,”  by  Torquemada,  originally  published 
in  1570,  of  which  the  curate,  in  the  scrutiny  of  Don 
Quixote’s  library,  says,  that  “ he  does  not  know  whether 
it  is  more  true,  or,  to  speak  strictly,  less  full  of  lies,” 
than  the  “ Olivante  de  Laura,”  a book  of  chivalry  by 
the  same  author,  which,  for  its  peculiar  absurdities, 
he  sends  at  once  to  the  bonfire  in  the  court-yard.  “ The 
Garden  of  Curious  Flowers,”  however,  is  still  a curi- 
ous book.  It  consists  of  six  colloquies  between  friends, 
who  talk  for  their  amusement  on  such  subjects  as  the 
monstrous  productions  of  nature,  the  terrestrial  para- 
dise, phantasms  and  enchantments,  the  influence  of  the 
stars,  and  the  history  and  condition  of  those  countries 


12  Mayans  y Siscar,  Ongenes,  Tom. 
I.  pp.  188-  191,  and  the  Dialogo  de 
las  Lenguas,  p.  12,  where  the  author 
says,  “ In  our  proverbs,  you  see  the  pu- 
rity of  the  Castilian  language  ” ; and 
p.  170,  where  he  says,  “ The  purest 
Castilian  we  have  is  in  our  proverbs.” 


The  “Don  Quixote”  will  occur  to 
every  body  as  a book  that  proves  how 
much  proverbs  enter  into  Spanish  liter- 
ature ; but  I should  rather  cite  the  “ Ce- 
lestina,”  where  their  number  is,  1 
think,  equally  great  in  proportion,  and 
their  serious  application  more  effective. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


DIDACTIC  PROSE. 


175 


that  lie  nearest  to  the  North  Pole.  It  is,  in  fact,  a col- 
lection of  whatever  strange  and  extravagant  stories  a 
learned  man  could  make,  beginning  with  such  as  he 
found  in  Aristotle,  Pliny,  Solinus,  Olaus  Magnus,  and 
Alhertus  Magnus,  and  including  those  told  by  the  most 
credulous  of  his  own  time.  Being  put  into  a form  then 
popular,  and  related  in  a pleasing  style,  they  had  no 
little  success.  They  were  several  times  printed  in 
the  original,  and,  beside  being  translated  into  Italian 
and  French,  are  wMl  knonm  to  those  who  are  curious 
in  the  literature  of  Queen  Elizabeth’s  time,  under  the 
much-abused  name  of  “ The  Spanish  MandeAlle.”  It 
may  be  added,  that  some  of  Torquemada’s  accounts  of 
spectres  and  ■\dsions  are  still  pleasant  reading ; and  that, 
though  Cervantes  spoke  slightingly  of  the  whole  book 
in  his  “ Don  Quixote,”  he  afterwards  resorted  to  it, 
both  for  facts  and  for  fancies  respecting  the  wonders 
of  Friesland  and  Iceland,  wdien  he  wrote  the  first 
part  of  his  “ Persiles  and  Sigismunda.” 

Christo val  de  Acosta,  a Portuguese  botanist,  — who 
was  accustomed  to  call  himself  “ the  African,”  because 
he  happened  to  be  born  in  one  of  the  African  posses- 
sions of  Portugal,  — travelled  much  in  the  East,  and 
after  his  return  published,  in  1578,  a work  on  Oriental 
plants  and  drugs,  to  which  he  added  at  the  end  a trea- 
tise on  the  natural  history  of  the  Elephant.  But, 
though  he  succeeded  in  attracting  the  attention  of  Eu- 
rope to  this  publication,  and  though  the  early  part  of 
his  life  had  been  that  of  a soldier,  an  adventurer,  and  a 


“ Jardin  de  Flores  Curiosas,  etc., 
por  Ant.  deTorquemada,”  1570, 1573, 
1587,  1589.  The  edition  of  Anveres, 
1575,  18mo,  fills  536  pages.  “ The 
Spanish  IMandeville  of  Miracles,  or 
the  Garden  of  Curious  Flowers,” 
(London,  1600,  4to,)  is  a translation 


into  good  old  English,  by  Ferdinand 
Walker.  The  original  is  strictly  pro- 
hibited in  the  Index  Expurgatorius  of 
1667,  p.  68.  The  “ Coloquios  Sati- 
ricos,”  by  the  same  author,  (1553,)  I 
have  never  seen. 


t 


176  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 

captive  among  pirates  and  robbers,  he  spent  many  of 
his  later  years,  if  not  all  of  them,  in  religious  retirement 
at  home,  where,  besides  other  thmgs,  he  wrote  a dis- 
course on  “ The  Benefits  of  Solitude,”  and  a treatise  on 
“The  Praise  of  Women.”  The  last  was  printed  in 
1592,  and,  except  that  it  is  too  full  of  learning,  may 
still  be  read  with  some  interest,  if  not  with  pleasure.^'* 

It  was  not,  however,  moral  and  philosophical  writers, 
like  Oliva  and  Guevara,  nor  writers  on  subjects  con- 
nected with  natural  history,  like  Torquemada  and  Acos- 
ta, that  were  most  favored  in  the  reigns  of  Philip  the 
Second  and  his  immediate  successors.  It  was  the  as- 
cetics and  mystics,  — the  natural  produce  of  the  sod  of 
Spain,  and,  almost  without  exception,  faithful  to  the 
old  Castilian  genius. 

Among  the  most  prominent  of  this  class  was  Luis  de 
Granada,  distinguished  as  a Spanish  preacher,  but  still 
more  remarkable  for  his  eloquence  as  a mystic.  His 
“ Meditations  for  the  Seven  Days  and  Nights  of  a 
Week,”  his  treatises  “On  Prayer”  and  “On  Faith,” 
and  his  “Memorial  of  a Christian  Life,”  were  early 
translated  into  Latin,  Italian,  French,  and  English,  — 
one  of  them  into  Turkish,  and  one  mto  Japanese, — 
and,  like  his  other  Spanish  works,  have  continued  to  be 
printed  and  admired  in  the  original  down  to  our  own 
times. 

The  most  effective  of  them  all  was  his  “ Guide  for 
Sinners,”  first  published  in  1556.  It  makes  two  moderate 
volumes,  and  portions  of  it  are  marked  with  a diffuse 

n “Tractado  de  las  Drogas  y Me-  translations.  The  “ Tractado  en  Loor 
dicinas  de  las  Indias  Orientales,  por  de  las  Mugeres,  por  Christoval  Aco- 
Christoval  Acosta,”  Burgos,  (1578,  sta,  Affricano,”  was  printed  at  Venice, 
4to,)  where  its  author  was  a surgeon ; 1592,  4to,  and  I know  no  other  edi- 

but  there  are  other  editions,  (1582  and  tion.  Barbosa,  in  his  life  of  Acosta, 
1592,)  and  early  Italian  and  French  spells  his  name  Da  Costa. 


Chap.  XXXIX.]  LUIS  DE  GRANADA.  177 

declamation,  which  is  perhaps  imitated  from  that  of 
Juan  de  Avila,  the  Apostle  of  Andalusia,  whose  friend 
and  follower  he  more  than  once  boasts  himself  to  have 
been.  But  its  general  tone  is  that  of  a moving  and  har- 
monious eloquence,  Avhich  has  made  it  a favorite  book 
of  devotion  in  Spain  eA'er  since  it  first  appeared,  and  has 
spread  its  reputation  so  Avidely,  that  it  has  been  trans- 
lated into  nearly  all  the  languages  of  Europe,  including 
the  Greek  and  Polish,  and,  at  one  time,  seemed  likely 
to  obtain  a place,  in  the  religious  literature  of  Chris- 
tendom, A’ery  near  that  of  the  great  ascetic  Avork  Avhich 
passes  under  the  name  of  Thomas  a Kempis.  In  its 
native  country,  however,  the  Guide  for  Sinners  encoun- 
tered at  first  not  a little  opposition.  As  early  as  the 
year  after  it  Avas  published,  it  had  been  placed  on  the 
Index  Expurgatorius,  and  no  edition  except  the  first 
seems  to  have  been  permitted  till  Ave  find  that  of  Sala- 
manca, in  1570.  But  the  A’ery  Index  that  condemned  it 
became  itself  the  subject  of  condemnation ; and,  in  the 
case  of  the  Guide  for  Sinners,  the  ecclesiastical  poAvers 
AA^ent  so  far  in  the  opposite  direction  as  to  grant  special 
indulgences  by  proclamation  to  all  Avho  should  haA’e 
read  or  heard  a chapter  of  the  very  Avork  they  had  ear- 
lier so  harshly  censured. 

Luis  de  Granada  passed  all  the  latter  part  of  his  life 
in  Lisbon,  — perhaps  because  he  had  been  repeatedly 
annoyed  by  the  Inquisition  at  home,  perhaps  because 
his  duties  seemed  to  lead  him  there.  But,  Avhatever 
may  have  been  the  cause,  it  is  certain  that  he  enjoyed 
much  more  favor  in  Portugal  than  ho  did  in  Spain  ; 
and  when  he  died,  in  1588,  eighty-four  years  old,  he 
could  boast  that  he  had  refused  the  highest  honors  of 
the  Portuguese  Church,  and  humbly  devoted  the  aaLoIo 
of  his  long  life  to  the  reformation  and  advancement  of 

23 


VOL.  III. 


178 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


the  Order  of  Preachers,  of  which,  during  his  best  years, 
he  had  been  the  active  and  venerated  head.^® 

San  Juan  de  la  Cruz,  who  was  in  some  respects  ah 
imitator  of  Luis  de  Granada,  was  born  in  1542,  and, 
having  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  reforming 
the  discipline  of  the  Carmelite  monasteries,  died  in 
1591,  and  was  beatified  in  1674.  His  works,  which 
are  chiefly  contemplative,  and  obtained  for  him  the  title 
of  the  Ecstatic  Doctor,  are  written  Avith  great  fervor. 
The  chief  of  them  are  the  allegory  of  “ The  Ascent 
to  Mount  Carmel,”  and  “The  Dark  Night  of  the  Soul,” 
— treatises  which  have  given  him  much  reputation  for 
a mystical  eloquence,  that  sometimes  rises  to  the  sub- 
lime, and  sometimes  is  lost  in  the  unintelligible.  His 
poetry,  of  which  a little  is  printed  in  some  of  the  many 
editions  of  his  Avorks,  is  of  the  same  general  character, 
but  marked  by  great  felicity  and  richness  of  phrase- 
ology.^® 

Santa  Teresa,  avIio  Avas  associated  Avith  Juan  de  la 
Cruz  in  the  work  of  reforming  the  Carmelites,  — or 
rather  Avith  Avhom  he  was  associated,  since  hers  Avas  the 
leading  spirit,  — died  in  1582,  sixty-seven  years  old. 
Her  didactic  works,  the  most  remarkable  of  aaLIcIi  are 
“ The  Path  to  Perfection  ” and  “ The  Interior  Castle,” 
are  less  obscure  than  those  of  her  coadjutor,  though 
more  declamatory.  But  all  she  Avrote,  including  an 
account  of  her  OAvn  life,  and  several  discussions  con- 
nected Avith  the  religious  duties  to  Avhich  she  dedicated 
herself,  were  composed  Avith  apparent  reluctance  on  her 

Preface  to  Obras  de  Luis  de  Gra-  had  an  edition  of  them  published  h\' 
nada,  Madrid,  1657,  folio,  and  Preface  Planta,  at  the  expense  of  the  Duke  of 
to  Guia  de  Pecadores,  Madrid,  1781,  Alva,  the  minister  and  general  of 
8vo.  Antonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  II.  Philip  II. 

p.  38.  Llorente,  Hist.,  Tom.  III.  p.  ’8  Obras  de  San  Juan  de  la  Cruz, 
123.  His  works  are  numerous,  and  Sevilla,  1703,  folio,  twelfth  edition, 
he  enjoys  the  singular  honor  of  having 


Chap.  XXXIX  ] 


SANTA  TERESA. 


179 


part,  and  in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  her  supe- 
riors. She  believed  herself  to  be  often  in  direct  com- 
munion with  God  ; and  as  those  about  her  shared  her 
faith  on  this  point,  she  was  continually  urged  by  them 
to  make  kno^vn  to  the  world  what  were  thus  regarded 
as  revelations  of  the  Divine  will.  On  one  occasion  she 
says : “ Far  within,  God  appeared  to  me  in  a vision,  as 
he  has  been  wont  to  do,-  and  gave  me  his  right  hand, 
and  said,  — Behold  this  print  of  the  nail ; it  is  a sign 
that,  from  this  day  forth,  thou  art  my  spouse.  Hither- 
to, thou  hast  not  deserved  it ; but  hereafter  not  only 
shalt  thou  regard  my  honor  as  that  of  thy  Creator,  and 
King,  and  God,  but  as  that  of  a true  spouse ; — for  my 
honor  is  now  thine,  and  thine  is  mine.” 

Living,  as  she  undoubtedly  did,  under  the  persuasion 
that  she  was  favored  with  numberless  revelations  of  this 
kind,  she  wrote  boldly  and  rapidly,  and  corrected  noth- 
ing. Her  style,  in  consequence,  is  diffuse  and  open  to 
objections,  which,  in  Spain,  the  spirit  of  a merely  liter- 
ary criticism  is  too  reverent  to  desire  to  remove.  But 
whatever  she  wrote  is  full  of  earnestness,  sincerity,  and 
love ; and  therefore  her  works  have  never  ceased  to  be 
read  by  those  of  her  own  nation  and  faith.  During  her 
life,  she  was  persecuted  by  the  Inquisition;  but  after 
her  death,  her  manuscripts  were  collected  with  pious 
care,  and  published,  in  1588,  by  Luis  de  Leon,  who  ex- 
horts all  men  to  follow  in  the  bright  path  she  has  point- 
ed out  to  them ; adding,  “ She  has  seen  God  face  to  face, 
and  she  now  shows  him  to  you.” 


1’^  Obras  de  Santa  Teresa,  (Madrid, 
1793,  2 tom.  4to,)  Tom.  I.  p.  393.  Of 
her  letters  I have  spoken,  ante,  p.  135, 
and  an  excellent  discussion  of  her  char- 
acter, and  that  of  the  mystical  school 
to  which  she  belonged,  may  be  found 


in  the  Christian  Examiner,  No.  152, 
Boston,  March,  1849.  tier  works 
are  accompanied  with  many  offers  of 
indulgence  to  those  who  read  a chap- 
ter or  a letter  of  any  of  them,  or  hear 
it  read.  For  her  troubles  with  the 


180 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


This  school  of  spiritualists,  to  which  belonged  Juan 
de  Avila  and  Luis  de  Leon,  of  whom  we  have  before 
spoken,  had,  no  doubt,  a very  considerable  etfect  on 
Spanish  didactic  prose.  They  raised  its  tone,  and  did 
more  towards  placing  it  on  the  old  foundations,  where 
the  chronicles  and  the  earlier  writers  of  the  country, 
like  Lucena,  had  left  it,  than  had  been  done  for  near- 
ly two  centuries.  Such  efforts  gave  dignity,  if  not  pu- 
rity or  an  exact  finish,  to  the  proper  Castilian  style ; 
so  that,  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Second, 
it  was  not  only  of  more  consequence  to  an  author’s 
reputation  to  write  well  upon  any  grave  subject  in 
prose  than  it  had  ever  been  before,  but,  with  such  ex- 
amples before  him,  it  was  easier  to  do  so.  In  all  this, 
the  movement  made  was  in  the  right  direction,  and  pro- 
duced happy  results.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  we  should 
remember  that  it  confirmed  in  the  didactic  literature  of 
the  country  that  tendency  to  a diffuse  and  florid  decla- 
mation, which  was  early  one  of  its  blemishes,  and  from 
Avhich,  with  such  authority  in  its  favor,  Castilian  prose 
has  never  since  been  able  completely  to  emancipate  itself 
A remarkable  proof  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  “ The 
Magdalen”  of  Malon  de  Chaide,  first  published  in  1592, 
after  the  death  of  its  author.  It  is  a religious  work, 
and  is  divided  into  four  parts ; the  first  being  merely 
introductory,  and  the  three  others  on  the  three  charac- 
ters of  Mary  Magdalen  as  a sinner,  a penitent,  and  a 
saint.  It  has  a very  rhetorical  air  tliroughout,  and 
sometimes  reads  almost  like  a romance ; — so  free  is  its 

Inquisition,  see  Llorente,  Tom.  III.  urged  anew  by  the  testament  of  Charles 
p.  114.  Santa  Teresa  was  beatified  in  II.,  and  confirmed  by  the  Cortes  of 
1614,  and  canonized  in  1622 ; besides  18i2,  June  28,  at  the  urgent  petition 
which,  in  1617  and  1626,  the  Cortes  of  the  Carmelites,  in  a spirit  worthy 
chose  her  to  be  the  co-patroness  and  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived.  See 
advocate  of  Spain  with  Santiago  ; an  Southey’s  Peninsular  War,  London, 
honor  that  was  long  resisted,  but  was  1832,  4to,  Tom.  III.  p.  539. 


Chap.  XXXIX.]  MALON  DE  CHAIDE.  — ROXAS. 


181 


conception  of  the  character  and  conversations  of  the 
saint.  But  some  of  its  discussions,  like  one  on  fashion- 
able dress,  and  one  on  religious  pictures,  are  curious ; 
and  some  of  its  religious  exhortations,  like  that  to  re- 
pent before  old  age  comes  on,  are  moving  and  powerful. 
The  moral  tone  of  the  whole  is  severe.  With  a great 
deal  of  the  spirit  of  a monk,  the  author  is  earnest 
against  books  of  chivalry ; and  he  not  only  rebukes  the 
habit  of  reading  the  ancient  classics,  but  even  such 
Spanish  poets  as  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  because  he 
thinks  admiration  of  them  inconsistent  with  a preserva- 
tion of  the  Christian  character.  Occasionally,  he  grows 
mystical ; and  then,  though  his  style  is  more  than  ever 
prodigal,  his  meaning  is  not  always  plain.  But,  on  the 
whole,  and  regarded  as  an  exhortation  to  a religious 
life,  the  Conversion  of  Mary  ]\Iagdalen  is  written  with 
so  much  richness  of  language,  and  is  often  so  eloquent, 
that  it  was  much  read  when  it  first  ajjpeared,  and  has 
not,  even  in  recent  times,  ceased  to  be  reprinted  and 
admired.^® 

Quite  difiierent  from  this  is  “ The  Amusing  Journey  ” 
of  Roxas,  — a book  that  hardly  falls  within  the  strict 
limits  of  any  class,  but  one  which  has  always  been  pop- 
ular in  Spain.  Its  author  was  an  actor ; and  his  travels 
consist  of  an  account  of  some  of  his  personal  adventures 
and  experiences,  thrown  into  the  form  of  dialogues  be- 
tween three  of  his  fellow-comedians  and  himself,  as  they 


18  Malon  de  Chaide  was  an  Au- 
rjustinian  monk,  and  Professor  at 
Salamanca ; and  there  are  editions 
of  his  Magdalen  of  1592,  Alcala, 
12mo,  of  1596,  1603,  1794,  etc.  A 
somewhat  similar  book  had  preceded 
it,  “ The  History  of  the  Queen  of 
.Sheba,  when  she  discoursed  with 
King  Solomon  in  Jerusalem.”  It 
was  written  by  another  Augustinian 


monk,  Alonso  de  Horosco,  a some- 
what voluminous  writer,  and  was 
printed  at  Salamanca,  in  1568,  12mo. 
But  it  is  little  more  than  a collec- 
tion of  ordinary  sermons,  some  of 
which  do  not  mention  the  Queen  of 
Sheba  at  all,  and  is  to  be  regarded 
only  as  a courtly  offering  to  Isabella, 
wife  of  Philip  II.,  whose  chaplain 
Horosco  was. 


P 


182 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISFI  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


visit  some  of  the  principal  cities  of  Spain  in  the  exer- 
cise of  their  profession  as  strolling  players.  They  travel 
on  foot;  and  their  conversations,  which  are  little  mo- 
lested by  scruples  of  any  sort,  make  up  a very  amusing- 
hook. 

In  some  parts  of  it,  we  have  sketches  of  the  places 
they  visit,  with  notices  of  the  local  history  belonging  to 
each.  In  others,  Roxas  himself,  in  a spirit  that  not  un- 
frequently  reminds  us  of  Gil  Bias,  relates  his  own  pre- 
vious adventures,  as  a soldier,  as  a captive  in  France, 
and  as  a play-actor  at  home.  In  yet  others,  we  have 
fictions,  or  what  seem  to  be  such,  and  among  them,  the 
story  on  which  Shakspeare  founded  his  Christopher  Sly 
and  the  Induction  to  “ The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.”  But, 
in  general,  it  is  rather  an  account  of  what  relates  to  the 
theatre  and  the  affairs  of  the  four  gay  companions  at 
Seville,  Toledo,  Segovia,  Valladolid,  Granada,  and  on 
the  roads  between  all  of  them,  interspersed  with  forty 
or  fifty  has,  which  Boxas  wrote  with  recognized  suc- 
cess, and  of  which  he  is  evidently  very  proud.  It  is  a 
pleasant  book,  loosely  and  carelessly  put  together,  but 
important  for  the  history  of  the  Spanish  drama,  and 
with  talent  enough  to  attract  the  attention  of  Scarron, 
who  took  from  it  the  hint  for  his  “ Roman  Comique.” 
From  internal  evidence,  “ The  Amusing  Journey”  was 
written  in  1602,  and,  at  the  end,  a continuation  is 
announced;  but,  like  so  many  other  promises  of  the 
same  sort  in  Spanish  literature,  it  was  never  kept.'® 

Perhaps  the  work  of  Roxas  served,  also,  as  a hint  for 


An  edition  of  1583  is  cited  by 
Antonio,  (Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  178,) 
but  this  cannot  be.  See  Viage,  Ma- 
drid, 1640,  12mo,  f.  66.  a.  The  first 
edition  must  be  that  of  Madrid,  1603, 
cited  in  the  Index  Expurgatorius, 
1667,  where  it  is  roughly  handled, 
but  since  which  it  has  been  often 


reprinted.  Clemencin,  (Don  Quixote, 
Tom.  III.  p.  395,)  when  speaking  ol' 
Spanish  actors,  rightly  calls  the  Viage 
of  Roxas  “ libro  magistral  en  la  ma- 
teria.” Another  work,  imputed  to 
Roxas,  which  I have  never  seen,  call- 
ed “ El  Buen  Repiiblico,”  was  wholly 
prohibited. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


SUAREZ  DE  FIGUEROA. 


183 


the  “ Pasagero,”  or  Traveller,  of  Suarez  de  Figueroa. 
At  any  rate,  the  well-known  author  of  the  “ Amarillis,” 
published  in  1617,  a half-narrative,  half-didactic  work 
with  this  title,  containing  ten  long  discussions,  on  a great 
variety  of  subjects,  held  by  four  persons,  as  they  jour- 
nev  from  Madrid  to  Barcelona,  in  order  to  embark  for 
Italy ; — the  discussions  themselves  being  called  alivios, 
or  rests  by  the  way.  The  chief  conversation  is  in  the 
hands  of  Figueroa,  the  principal  person  in  his  own  dra- 
ma ; and  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  and  so  far  as  the 
discussions  relate  to  the  men  of  letters  of  his  own  time, 
the  Pasagero  is  somewhat  cynical.  His  autobiogra- 
phy, which  is  contained  in  the  eighth  dialogue,  is  in- 
teresting, and  so  are  the  ninth  and  tenth  dialogues,  in 
which  he  gives  his  view  of  the  state  of  Spain  at  the 
time  he  wrote,  and  the  means  of  leading  an  honest  and 
honorable  life  there.  But  the  most  important  conversa- 
tions are  the  third,  which  relates  to  the  theatre,  and 
the  fourth,  which  is  on  the  popidar  and  courtly  mode 
of  preaching.  The  whole  work  is  too  diffuse  in  its 
style,  though  less  declamatory  than  much  in  the  didac- 
tic prose  of  the  period.®’ 


2®  “ El  Pasagero,  Advertencias  uti- 
lissimas  a la  Vida  Humana,  por  el 
Doctor  Christ.  Suarez  de  Figueroa,” 
Madrid,  1617,  12mo,  IF.  492.  Fi- 
gueroa also  published  (Madrid,  1621, 
4to)  a volume  of  five  hundred  pages, 
entitled,  “ Varias  Noticias  importan- 
tes  a la  Humana  Comunicacion,” 
which  he  divides  into  twenty  essays, 
entitled  “ Variedades.”  It  is  less 
well  written  than  the  Pasagero,  fall- 
ing more  into  the  faults  of  the  time. 
The  seventeenth  Essay,  however, 
which  is  on  Domestic  Life,  with  il- 
lustrations from  Spanish  history,  is 
pleasant.  His  “ Plaza  Universal  de  las 
Ciencias,”  first  printed  at  Madrid,  in 
1615,  4to,  and  reprinted  in  folio,  with 
large  changes  and  additions,  in  1737, 


is  an  attempt  at  a compendium  of 
human  knowledge,  curious  in  the  first 
edition,  as  showing  the  state  of  knowl- 
edge and  opinion  at  that  time  in  Spain, 
but  of  little  value  in  either. 

A more  serious  book  of  travels 
might  here  have  been  added  ; that  of 
Pedro  Ordoiiez  de  Cevallos,  entitled 
“ Viage  del  Mundo,”  and  first  printed 
at  Madrid,  1614,  4to.  It  is  an  agreea- 
ble and  often  interesting  autobiography 
of  its  author,  beginning  with  his  birth 
at  Jaen  and  his  education  at  Seville, 
and  giving  his  travels,  for  thirty-nine 
years,  all  over  the  world,  including 
China,  America,  many  parts  of  Afri- 
ca, and  the  northern  kingdoms  of  Eu- 
rope. Its  spirit  is  eminently  national, 
and  its  style  simple  and  Castilian. 


184  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 

Some  of  the  best  portions  of  the  didactic  literature  of 
Spain  during  the  seventeenth  century  were  partly  or 
wholly  political.  Marquez,  a writer  in  the  old  style  of 
the  reign  of  Philip  the  Second,  published  in  1612  his 
“ Christian  Governor,”  a work  composed  at  the  request 
of  the  Duke  of  Feria,  then  viceroy  of  Sicily,  and  intend- 
ed to  serve  as  an  answer  to  Machiavelli’s  “ Prince.” 
Vera  y Zuniga,  author  of  a strange  ejiic  on  the  con- 
quest of  Seville,  Avho  was  a better  minister  of  Philip  the 
Third  than  he  was  poet,  published  in  1620  a treatise, 
in  four  discourses,  on  the  character  and  duties  of  an 
ambassador ; full  of  learning,  and  occasionally  illustrat- 
ed with  appropriate  anecdotes  drawn  from  Spanish  his- 
tory, but  citing  indiscriminately  books  of  authority  and 
no  authority  on  the  grave  subjects  he  discusses,  and 
relying  apparently  with  as  much  confidence  upon  an 
opinion  of  Ovid  as  upon  one  of  Comines.^^  Fernandez 
de  Navarre te,  a secretary  of  the  same  monarch,  chose 
his  subject  a little  higher  up,  and  in  1625,  under  the 
disguise  of  an  assumed  name,  and  in  a letter  to  a Polish 
prime-minister  who  never  existed,  gave  the  world  his 
notions  of  what  “ a royal  favorite  ” should  be ; but  it  is 
evident  that  Spain  only  was  in  his  thoughts  Avhen  he 
wrote,  and  his  little  treatise  is  so  encumbered  Avith  ill- 
assorted  learning  and  ungraceful  conceits  that  it  Avas 
soon  forgotten.^^ 


21  “El  Governador  Christiano,  de- 
ducido  de  las  Vidas  de  Moyses  y Josua, 
por  Juan  Marquez.”  There  are  edi- 
tions of  1612,  1619,  1634,  etc.,  with 
translations  into  Italian  and  French. 
The  same  author  wrote,  also,  “ Dos 
Estados  de  la  Espiritual  Jerusalem,” 
1603.  He  was  born  in  1564,  and 
died  in  1621.  Capmany  (Eloquencia, 
Tom.  IV.  pp.  103,  etc.)  praises  him 
highly. 

22  “ El  Embaxador,  por  Don  Juan 


Antonio  de  Vera  y Zuniga,”  Sevilla, 
1620,  4to,  280  leaves.  I have  noticed 
him  as  an  epic  poet,  A^ol.  II.  p.  500. 

■23  “ El  Perfecto  Privado,  Carta  do 
Lelio  Peregrine  a Estanislao  Bordio. 
Privado  del  Rey  de  Polonia.”  It  was 
first  printed  in  1625,  (Antonio,  Bib. 
Nov.,)  but  I know  it  only  in  a collec- 
tion called  “ A'^arios  Eloquentes  Libros 
recogidos  en  uno,”  (Madrid,  1726. 
4to,)  a volume  which,  besides  the 
above  work  of  Navarrete,  contains  the 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


SAAVEDRA  FAXARDO. 


185 


Not  so  the  “ Idea  of  a Christian  Prince,”  by  Saavedra 
Faxardo,  who  died  at  Madrid  in  1648,  after  having  been 
long  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  the  Spanish  cromi.  It 
Avas  a higher  subject  than  either  of  those  taken  by  Na- 
A^arrete  and  Figueroa,  and  managed  Avith  more  talent. 
Under  the  aAvkAvard  arrangement  of  a hundred  inge- 
nious Emblems,  Avith  mottoes,  that  are  generally  Avell 
chosen  and  pointed,  he  has  gh-en  a hundred  essays  on 
the  education  of  a prince ; — his  relations  Avith  his  min- 
isters and  subjects ; his  duties  as  the  head  of  a state  in 
its  internal  and  external  relations ; and  his  duties  to 
himself  in  old  age  and  in  preparation  for  death ; — all 
intended  for  the  instruction  of  Balthasar,  son  of  Philip 
the  Fourth,  to  Avhom  it  is  dedicated,  but  Avho  died  too 
young  to  profit  by  its  Avisdom.  It  is  Avritten  in  a com- 
pact, sententious  style,  Avith  much  quaint  and  curious 
knowledge  of  history,  and  Avith  a large  and  not  ahvays 
judicious  display  of  learning.  But  in  many  points  it 
reminds  us  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh’s  “Cabinet  Council” 
and  Oavcii  Feltham’s  “ Resolves”;  — a measure  of  praise 
that  can  be  gNen  to  feAv  such  prose  Avorks  in  the  Span- 
ish language.  Its  success  Avas  great ; nor  is  it  yet  fallen 
into  neglect.  The  first  edition  AA’as  published  in  1640, 
at  Munster.  Many  others  folloAved  in  the  course  of  the 
century.  It  Avas  translated  into  all  the  languages  of 
Europe,  and,  in  Spain  at  least,  has  continued  to  be 
printed  and  valued  doAvn  to  our  oavu  days.^^ 


“ Retrato  Politico  del  Rey  Alfonso 
VIII.,”  by  Caspar  Mercader  y Cer- 
vellon,  (see  Ximeno,  Tom.  II.  p.  99,) 
the  “ Govierno  Moral  ” of  Polo,  notic- 
ed, II.  544,  in.  Ill,  with  some  dis- 
cussions which  it  excited,  and  the 
“Lagrimas  de  Heraclito  defendidas,” 
a tract  by  Antonio  de  Vieyra,  read  be- 
fore Christina  of  Sweden,  at  Rome,  to 
j)rove  that  the  world  is  more  worthy 

VOL.  III.  24 


of  being  wept  over  than  laughed  at ; all 
of  them  attempts  at  wisdom  and  wit 
in  the  worst  taste  of  their  times. 

“ Empresas  Politicos,  Idea  de  un 
Principe  Christiano,  por  Diego  Saave- 
dra Faxardo.”  The  number  of  edi- 
tions is  very  great,  and  so  is  that  of 
the  translations.  There  are,  I think, 
two  in  English,  one  of  which  is  by 
Sir  J.  Astry,  London,  1700,  2 vols. 

p ^ 


186  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

“ The  Divine  Politics  ” of  Quevedo,  a part  of  which 
was  published  before  the  Christian  Prince  and  a part 
after  it,  may  have  suggested  his  subject  to  Saavedra, 
but  not  the  mode  of  treating  it ; and,  in  the  same  way, 
the  great  satirist  may  have  had  some  influence  in  deter- 
mining Antonio  de  Vega,  the  Portuguese,  to  write  his 
“Political  Dream  of  a Perfect  Nobleman,”  in  1620;^^ 
Nieremberg,  the  Jesuit,  to  write  his  “ Manual  for  Gen- 
tlemen and  Princes,”  which  appeared  in  1629;^®  and 
Benavente,  his  “ Advice  for-  Kings,  Princes,  and  Ambas- 
sadors,” which  appeared  in  1643.^^  But  none  of  these 
works,  nor  any  thing  else  in  the  nature  of  didactic 


8vo.  A Latin  version  which  appeared 
at  Brussels  in  1640,  the  year  in  which 
the  original  Spanish  appeared  at  Mun- 
ster, has  also  been  reprinted. 

25  “ El  Perfeto  Senor,  etc. , de  Anto- 
nio Lopez  de  Vega,”  1626  and  1652, 
the  latter,  Madrid,  4to.  He  published, 
also,  (Madrid,  1641,  4to,)  a series  of 
moral  Dialogues,  on  various  subjects 
connected  with  Rank,  Wealth,  and 
Letters,  under  the  title  of  “ Heraclito 
y Democrito  de  nuestro  Siglo,”  and 
giving  the  opposite  views  of  each, 
which  the  names  of  the  interlocutors 
imply ; a book  that  affords  sketches  of 
manners  and  opinions  at  the  time  it 
was  written,  that  are  often  amusing, 
and  generally  delivered  in  an  unaf- 
fected style.  The  poetry  of  Antonio 
de  Vega  has  been  noticed,  11.  529. 

25  “Obras  y Dias,  Manual  de  Se- 
Mores  y Principes,  por  Juan  Eusebio 
Nieremberg,”  Madrid,  1629,  4to,  ff. 
220.  His  father  and  mother  were 
Germans,  who  came  to  Spain  with 
the  Empress  of  Austria,  Dofia  Maria, 
but  he  himself  was  born  at  Madrid  in 
1595,  and  died  there  in  1658.  Anto- 
nio (Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  1.  p.  686)  and 
Baena  (Tom.  HI.  p.  190)  give  long 
lists  of  his  works,  chiefly  in  Latin. 
The  “ Contemplations  on  the  State  of 
Man,”  published  in  1684,  seventeen 
years  after  the  death  of  Jeremy  Taylor, 
as  his  ivork,  turns  out  to  have  been 
substantially  taken  from  a treatise  of 


Nieremberg,  first  published  as  early 
as  1654,  and  entitled  “ Diferencia  de 
lo  Temporal  y Eterno  ” ; the  “ Con- 
templations,” however,  being  a rifaci- 
menio  of  an  English  translation  of  the 
work  of  Nieremberg,  by  Sir  Vivian 
Mullineaux,  published  in  1672.  (See 
an  interesting  pamphlet  on  this  sub- 
ject, “ Letter  to  Joshua  Watson, 
Esq.,  etc.,  by  Edw.  Churton,  M.  A., 
Archdeacon  of  Cleveland,”  London, 
1848,  8vo.)  Why  the  fraud  was  not 
earlier  detected,  since  Heber  and 
others  had  noted  the  difference  be- 
tween the  style  of  this  work  and  that 
of  Bishop  Taylor’s  works  generally, 
it  is  difficult  to  tell.  The  treatise  of 
Nieremberg  has  always  been  valued 
in  Spanish,  and,  besides  being  early 
translated  into  Latin,  Italian,  French, 
and  English,  was  published  in  Ara- 
bic in  1733  - 34,  at  the  Convent  of 
St.  John,  on  the  Mountain  of  the 
Druses.  See  Brunet. 

27  “ Advertencias  para  Reyes,  Prin- 
cipes, y Embaxadores,  por  Don  Chris- 
toval  de  Benavente  y Benavides,” 
Madrid,  1643,  4to,  pp.  700.  It  a good 
deal  resembles  the  “ Embaxador  ” of 
Vera  y Zuniga;  and,  like  the  author 
of  that  work,  Benavente  had  been  an 
ambassador  of  Spain  in  other  coun- 
tries, and  wrote  on  the  subject  of  what 
may  be  considered  to  have  been  his 
profession  with  experience  and  curi- 
ous learning. 


Chap.  XXXIX.]  SAAVEDRA  FAXARDO,  AND  OTHERS. 


187 


prose  that  appeared  in  the  seventeenth  century,  is  equal 
to  the  Christian  Prince  of  Saavedra ; unless,  indeed,  we 
are  to  except  his  own  vision  of  a state,  which  he  calls 

The  Literary  Republic,”  and  in  which  he  discusses 
somewhat  satirically,  but  in  a vein  of  agreeable  criti- 
cism, the  merits  of  the  principal  writers  of  ancient  and 
modern  times,  foreign  and  Spanish.  The  Literary  Re- 
public, however,  was  not  published  till  after  its  author’s 
death,  and  never  enjoyed  a popularity  like  that  enjoyed 
by  his  longer  and  elder  work ; a Avork  which  leaves  far 
behind  every  thing  in  the  class  of  books  of  emblems, 
that  so  long  served  to  tax  the  ingenuity  of  the  higher 
classes  of  society  in  Europe.^^ 

To  these  Avriters  of  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  and  the 
first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  a feAV  more  might 
be  added,  of  less  consequence.  Juan  de  Guzman,  in 
1589,  published  a formal  treatise  on  Rhetoric,  in  the 
seA^enth  dialogue  of  Avhich  he  makes  an  ingenious  appli- 
cation of  the  rules  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  masters  to 
the  demands  of  modern  sermonizing  in  Spain.^®  Gra- 
cian  Dantisco,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  Philip  the  Sec- 
ond, published  in  1599  a small  discourse  on  the  minor 
morals  of  life,  Avhich  he  called  the  “ Galateo,”  in  imi- 
tation of  Giovanni  della  Casa,  Avhose  classical  Italian 
treatise  bearing  the  same  name  Avas  already  translated 
into  Spanish.^®  In  the  same  year  appeared  a curious 

23  His  “ Republica  Literaria”  is  a 29  “ Primera  Parte  de  la  Rhetorica, 
light  work,  in  the  manner  of  Lucian,  etc.,  por  Juan  de  Guzman,”  Alcala, 
written  with  great  purity  of  language,  1590,  12mo,  291  leaves.  It  is  divided 
and  was  not  printed  till  1670.  A affectedly  into  fourteen  “ Combites,” 
spirited  dialogue  between  Mercury  or  Invitations  to  Feasts.  Its  author 
and  Lucian,  on  “ The  Follies  of  Eu-  was  a pupil  of  the  famous  Sanctius, 
rope,”  in  which  Saavedra  defends  the  “ El  Brocense.” 

House  of  Austria  against  the  attacks  3°  The  “ Galateo  ” was  several 
of  the  rest  of  the  world,  remained  in  times  reprinted.  It  is  a small  book, 
manuscript  till  it  was  produced,  in  containing,  in  the  edition  of  Madrid, 
1787,  in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Semi-  1664,  only  126  leaves  in  18mo.  An- 
nario  Erudito.  tonio,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  11.  p.  17. 


188  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

work  by  Pedro  de  Andrada,  on  “ The  Art  of  Horseman- 
ship,” well  written  and  learned,  with  amusing  anecdotes 
of  horses;  and  this  was  followed,  in  1605,  by  a similar 
treatise  of  Simon  de  Villalobos,  but  one  which,  from 
its  more  military  character,  and  from  the  exaggerated 
importance  it  gives  to  its  subject,  might  well  have  been 
made  a part  of  Don  Quixote’s  library.^*  Both  of  them 
bear  marks  of  the  state  of  society  at  the  time  they  were 
written. 

Paton,  the  author  of  several  works  of  little  value, 
published,  in  1604,  a crude  treatise  on  “ The  Art  of 
Spanish  Eloquence,”  founded  on  the  rules  of  the  an- 
cients ; and,  in  Mexico,  Aleman,  while  living  there, 
printed,  in  1609,  a treatise  on  “Castilian  Orthography,” 
which,  besides  what  is  appropriate  to  the  title,  contains 
pleasant  discussions  on  other  topics  connected  with  the 
language,  over  which  he  has  himself  shown  a great 
mastery  in  his  “ Guzman  de  Alfarache.”  A series  of 
conversations  on  miscellaneous  subjects,  divided  into 
seven  nights,  which  their  author,  Faria  y Sousa,  in- 
tended to  have  called  simply  “ Moral  Dialogues,”  but 
which  his  bookseller,  without  his  knowledge,  published 
in  1624  with  the  title  of  “ Brilliant  Nights,”  are  dull 
and  pedantic,  like  nearly  every  thing  this  learned  Por- 
tuguese wrote ; and  the  second  part,  which  he  offered 
to  the  public,  was  never  called  for.^  And,  finally,  an- 


31  Libro  de  la  Gineta  de  Espaiia, 
por  Pedro  Fernandez  de  Andrada,”  Se- 
villa, 1599,  4to,  182  leaves.  — “ Modo 
de  pelear  a la  Gineta,  por  Simon  de 
Villalobos,”  Valladolid,  1605,  18mo, 
70  leaves. 

32  “ Eloquencia  Espanola  en  Arte, 
por  el  Maestro  Bartolome  Ximenez 
Paton,”  Toledo,  1604,  12mo.  The 
extracts  from  old  Spanish  books  and 
hints  about  their  authors,  in  this  trea- 
tise, are  often  valuable  ; but  how  wise 
its  practical  suggestions  are  may  be 


inferred  from  the  fact,  that  it  recom- 
mends an  orator  to  strengthen  his 
memory  by  anointing  his  head  with 
a compound  made  chiefly  of  bear's 
grease  and  white  wax. 

33  “ Ortografia  Castellana,  por  Ma- 
teo Aleman,”  Mexico,  1609,  4to,  83 
leaves. 

34  “ Noches  Claras,  Primera  Par- 
te, por  Manoel  de  Faria  y Sousa,” 
Madrid,  1624,  12mo,  a thick  volume. 
Barbosa,  Tom.  III.  p.  257. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


VARIOUS  AUTHORS. 


189 


other  Portuguese,  Francisco  de  Portugal,  who  died  in 
1632,®^  wrote  a pleasant  treatise  on  “ The  Art  of  Gal- 
lantry,” with  anecdotes  showing  the  state  of  fashionable, 
or  rather  courtly,  society  at  the  time ; but  it  was  not 
printed  till  long  after  its  author’s  death.'® 


•"5  Francisco  de  Portug-al,  Count 
Vimioso,  left  a son,  who  published  his 
father’s  poetry  with  a life  prefixed, 
but  I know  no  edition  of  the  “Arte 
de  Galanteria,”  etc.,  earlier  than  that 
of  Lisbon,  1670,  4to. 

36  Before  we  come  into  the  period 
when  bad  taste  overwdielmed  every 
thing,  we  should  slightly  refer  to  a 
few  authors  who  were  not  infected  by 
it,  and  who  yet  are  not  of  importance 
enough  to  be  introduced  into  the  text. 

The  first  of  them  is  Diego  de  Este- 
11a,  w'ho  was  born  in  1524,  and  died  in 
1578.  lie  was  much  connected  with 
the  great  diplomatist.  Cardinal  Gran- 
velle,  and  published  many  works  in 
Latin  and  Spanish,  the  best  of  which, 
as  to  style  and  manner,  are  “ The  V an- 
ity  of  the  World,”  1574,  and  “ Med- 
itations on  the  Love  of  God,”  1578. 

Several  treatises  in  the  form  of  bi- 
ography, but  really  ascetic  and  didactic 
in  their  character,  were  published  soon 
afterwards,  which  are  w'rittcn  wdth 
some  purity  and  vigor ; such  as  the 
Life  of  Pius  V.,  (1595,)  by  Antonio 
Fuenrnayor,  who  died  at  the  early  age 
of  thirty  ; the  Life  of  Santa  Teresa, 
(1599,)  by  Diego  de  Yepes,  one  of  her 
correspondents,  and  the  confessor  of  the 
last  dark  years  of  Philip  11. ; and  the 
Lives  of  two  devout  women.  Dona 
Sancha  Carillo,  and  Dona  Ana  Ponce 
de  Leon,  (1604,)  by  Martin  de  Roa,  a 
.Jesuit,  who  long  represented  the  in- 
terests of  his  Society  at  the  court  of 
Rome. 

To  these  may  be  added  three  other 
works  of  very  different  characters. 

The  “ Examen  de  Ingenios,”  or 
flow  to  determine,  from  the  Physical 
and  External  Condition,  who  are  fit  for 
Training  in  the  Sciences,  by  Juan  de 
Huarte,  (Alcala,  1640, 12mo,  first  pub- 
lished in  1566,)  is  one  of  them.  It 
enjoyed  a prodigious  reputation  in  its 
time,  was  often  published  in  Spanish, 


and  was  translated  into  all  the  princi- 
pal languages  of  Europe  ; into  English 
by  Richard  Carew,  1594  ; and,  as  late 
as  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  centu- 
ry, into  German  by  a person  no  less 
distinguished  than  Lessing,  whose  ver- 
sion, entitled  “ Priifung  der  Kopfe,” 
was  printed  for  the  second  time  at  Wit- 
tenberg, 1785,  12mo.  It  is  a work  full 
of  striking,  but  often  wild,  conjectures 
in  physiology,  written  in  a forcible, 
clear  style,  and  Lessing  aptly  com- 
pares its  author  to  a spirited  horse, 
that,  in  galloping  over  the  stones, 
never  strikes  fire  so  brilliantly  as  he 
does  when  he  stumbles.  It  is  praised 
by  Forner,  (Obras,  Madrid,  1843,  8vo, 
Tom.  1.  p.  61,)  and  is  on  the  Index 
Expurgatorius  of  1667,  p.  734.  The 
“ Examen  de  Maridos,”  a spirited 
play  of  Alarcon,  (see,  ante,  11.  322,)  and 
the  “ Vexamen  de  Ingenios,”  a live- 
lyprose  satire  of  Cancer,  (Obras,  1761, 
p.  105,)  were,  I suppose,  understood 
by  their  contemporaries  to  have  refer- 
ence to  the  title  of  the  “ Examen  de 
Ingenios,”  then  very  popular.  A work 
not  unlike  the  “ Examen  de  Ingenios  ’’ 
appeared  at  Barcelona,  (1637,  4to,) 
entitled  “ El  Sol  Solo,  etc.,  y Anato- 
m'la  de  Ingenios,”  taking  a view  of 
the  same  subject  more  in  the  nature  of 
Physiognomy,  and  not  without  an  ap- 
proach to  what  has  since  been  called 
Phrenology.  It  was  written  by  Este- 
van  Pujasol,  an  Aragonese  ; and  is  cu- 
rious for  its  manner  of  treating  the 
subjects  it  discusses, — half  anatomi- 
cal, half  spiritual ; but  is  not  other- 
wise interesting. 

The  second  is  the  “ Ilistoria  Moral 
y Philosdphica  ” of  Pero  Sanchez  of 
Toledo,  published  atToledo,  1590,  fo- 
lio, when  its  author,  who  was  connected 
with  the  cathedral  there,  was  already 
an  old  man.  It  consists  of  the  Lives 
of  distinguished  men  of  antiquity,  like 
Plato,  Alexander,  and  Cicero,  and  ends 


190 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


During  the  period  embraced  by  the  works  last  men- 
tioned, a false  taste  had  invaded  Spanish  prose.  It  was 
the  same  unhappy  taste  which  we  have  noticed  in 
Spanish  poetry  by  the  name  of  “ Gongorism,”  but  which 
its  admirers  called  sometimes  “ the  polite,”  and  some- 
times “ the  cultivated,”  style  of  writing.  Traces  of  it 
have  been  sought  in  the  sixteenth  century  among  some 
of  the  best  writers  of  the  country ; but  for  this  there 
seems  no  foundation,  except  in  the  fact,  that  a rigorous 
taste  never  at  any  time  prevailed  in  Spain,  and  that 
the  luxuriant  success  of  letters  towards  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  Philip  the  Second,  and  the  consequent  diffi- 
culty of  obtaining  fashionable  distinction  by  author- 
ship, had  led  to  occasional  affectations  even  in  the  style 
of  those  who,  like  Cervantes  and  Mariana,  stood  fore- 
most among  the  better  writers  of  their  time. 

But  now,  the  admiration  that  followed  Gongora  al- 
most necessarily  introduced  conceits  into  prose  writing, 
such  as  were  thought  so  worthy  of  imitation  in  poetry. 
Those,  therefore,  who  most  coveted  public  favor,  began 
to  play  with  words,  and  seek  to  surprise  by  an  unex- 
pected opposition  of  ideas  and  quaintness  of  metaphor, 
little  consistent  with  the  old  Castilian  dignity,  until 
at  last  they  quite  left  the  stately  constructions  in  which 


with  a treatise  on  Death  ; — each  of 
the  Lives  being  accompanied  by  moral 
and  Christian  reflections,  which  are 
sometimes  written  in  a flowing  and 
fervent  style,  but  are  rarely  appro- 
priate, and  never  original  or  powerful. 

The  last  is  by  Vincencio  Carducho,  a 
Florentine  painter,  who,  when  quite  a 
boy,  was  brought  to  Spain  in  1585,  by 
his  brother  Bartolome,  and  died  there 
in  1638,  having  risen  to  considerable 
eminence  in  his  art.  In  1634,  he  pub- 
lished, at  Madrid,  “ Dialogos  de  la 
Pintura,  su  Defensa,  Orlgen,”  etc. 
(4to,  229  leaves)  ; but  the  licencias 


are  dated  1632  and  1633.  It  is  writ- 
ten in  good  plain  prose,  without  par- 
ticular merit  as  to  style,  and  is  declar- 
ed by  Cean  Bermudez,  (Diccionario, 
Tom.  I.  p.  251,)  in  his  notice  of  the 
author,  to  be  “ el  mejor  libroque  tene- 
mos  de  pintura  en  Castellano.”  At 
the  end  is  an  Appendix,  in  which  are 
attacks  of  Lope  de  Vega,  Juan  de 
Jauregui,  and  others,  on  a duty  laid 
upon  pictures,  which,  Cean  Bermu- 
dez says,  “ the  efforts  of  Carducho 
and  his  friends  succeeded  in  removing 
in  1637.” 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


CULTISMO.  — GRACIAN. 


191 


resides  so  much  of  what  is  peculiar  to  the  sonorous 
declamations  of  Luis  de  Leon  and  Luis  de  Granada, 
and  by  excessive  efforts  at  brilliancy  became  so  involved 
and  obscure,  that  they  Avere  not  always  intelligible. 
Instances  of  such  affectation  may  be  found  in  SaaA’^edra 
and  Francisco  de  Portugal.  But  the  innovation  itself 
is  older  than  either  of  their  published  works.  It  broke 
out  Avith  Paravicino,  Avho,  besides  imitating  Gongora's 
poetry,  as  Ave  have  already  seen,  carried  similar  ex- 
travagances of  metaphor  and  construction  into  his  ora- 
torical and  didactic  prose ; intimating,  in  a characteristic 
phrase,  that  he  claimed  the  honor  of  being  the  Colum- 
bus Avho  had  made  this  great  discovery.  As  early  as 
1620,  it  Avas  matter  of  censure  and  ridicule  to  Liiian, 
in  his  “ Guide  to  Strangers  in  Madrid,”  and  soon  after- 
Avards  to  Mateo  Velazquez,  in  his  “ Village  Philoso- 
pher ” ; so  that  from  this  period  Ave  may  consider  cul- 
tismo  nearly  or  quite  as  preA^alent  in  Spanish  prose  as 
it  was  in  Spanish  poetry.®^ 

The  person,  hoAveA^er,  Avho  settled  its  character,  and 
in  some  respects  gave  it  an  air  of  philosophical  preten- 
sion, Avas  Balthazar  Gracian,  a Jesuit  of  Aragon,  Avho 
lived  betAveen  1601  and  1658  ; exactly  the  period  Avhen 
the  cultivated  style  took  possession  of  Spanish  prose, 
and  rose  to  its  greatest  consideration.  He  began  in 
1630,  by  a tract  called  “ The  Hero,”  AAdiich  is  not  so 


37  See  Declamacion,  etc.,  of  Vargas 
y Ponce,  1793,  App.,  ^ 17 ; Marina, 
Ensayo,  in  Memorias  de  la  Acad,  de 
Hist.,  Tom.  IV.,  1804  ; Lilian  y Ver- 
dugo.  Avisos  de  Forasteros,  1620,  no- 
ticed [ante,  p.  103)  under  the  head  of 
Romantic  Fiction  ; and  “ El  Filosofo 
del  Aldea,  y sus  Conversaciones  Fami- 
liares,  su  Autor  el  Alferez  Don  Balta- 
zar  Mateo  Velazquez,”  Zaragoza,  por 
Diego  de  Ormer,  12mo,  106  leaves,  s. 
a. ; a singular  book,  didactic  in  its  main 


purpose,  but  illustrating  with  stories  it.s 
homely  philosophy.  I find  no  notice 
of  it,  though  the  author,  in  his  Dedica- 
tion, intimates  that  it  is  not  his  first 
published  work.  It  seems  to  have 
been  written  soon  after  the  death  of 
Philip  III.  in  1621,  and  its  last  dia- 
logue is  against  cultis/no,  of  the  intro- 
duction of  which  into  Spanish  prose  I 
have  spoken  when  noticing  the  “ Pi- 
cara  Justina  ” of  Andreas  Perez,  1605, 
ante,  p.  67. 


192  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 

much  the  description  of  a hero’s  character  as  it  is  a 
recipe  to  form  one,  given  in  short,  compact  sentences, 
constructed  in  the  new  style.  It  was  successful,  and 
was  followed  by  five  or  six  other  works,  written  in  the 
same  manner  ; after  which,  to  confirm  and  justify  them 
all,  there  appeared,  in  1648,  his  “ Agudeza  y Arte  de 
Ingenio  ” ; a regular  Art  of  Poetry,  or  rather  system  of 
rhetoric,  accommodated  to  the  school  of  Gongora,  and 
showing  great  acuteness,  especially  in  the  ingenuity 
with  which  the  author  presses  into  his  service  the  elder 
poets,  such  as  Diego  de  Mendoza,  the  Argensolas,  and 
even  Luis  de  Leon  and  the  Bachiller  de  la  Torre. 

The  most  remarkable  work  of  Gracian,  however,  is 
his  “ Criticon,”  published  in  three  parts,  between  1650 
and  1653.  It  is  an  allegory  on  human  life,  and  gives  us 
the  adventures  of  Critilus,  a noble  Spaniard,  wrecked 
on  the  desert  island  of  Saint  Helena,  where  he  finds  a 
solitary  savage,  who  knows  nothing  about  himself,  except 
that  he  has  been  nursed  by  a wild  beast.  After  much 
communication  in  dumb  show,  they  are  able  to  under- 
stand each  other  in  Spanish,  and,  being  taken  from  the 
island,  travel  together  through  the  world,  talking  often 
of  the  leading  men  of  their  time  in  Sjiain,  but  holding 
intercourse  more  with  allegorical  personages  than  with 
one  another.  The  story  of  their  adventures  is  long,  and 
its  three  portions  represent  the  three  periods  of  human 
life ; the  first  being  called  the  Spring  of  Childhood,  the 
second  the  Autumn  of  Manhood,  and  the  third  the 
Winter  of  Old  Age.  In  some  parts  it  shows  much  tal- 
ent; and  eloquent  discussions  on  moral  subjects,  and 
glowing  descriptions  of  events  and  natural  scenery,  can 
be  taken  from  it,  which  are  little  infected  with  the  ex- 
travagances of  the  Cultivated  Style.  Sometimes,  we  are 
reminded  of  the  “ Pilgrim’s  Progress,” — as,  for  instance. 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


GRACIAN. 


193 


in  the  scenes  of  the  World’s  Fair, — and  might  almost 
say,  that  the  “ Criticon  ” is  to  the  Catholic  religion  and 
the  notions  of  life  in  Spain  during  the  reign  of  Philip 
the  Fourth,  what  Bunyan’s  fiction  is  to  Puritanism  and 
the  English  character  in  the  age  of  Cromwell.  But  there 
is  no  vitality  in  the  shadowy  personages  of  Gracian. 
He  bodies  nothing  forth  to  which  our  sympathies  can 
attach  themselves  as  they  do  to  such  sharply-defined 
creations  as  Christian  and  Mr.  Greatheart,  and,  when 
we  are  moved  at  all  by  him,  it  is  only  by  his  acuteness 
and  eloquence. 

His  other  works  are  of  little  value,  and  are  yet  more 
deformed  by  bad  taste  ; especially  his  “ Politico-Fernan- 
do,”  which  is  an  extravagant  eulogium  on  Ferdinand 
the  Catholic,  and  his  “ Discrete,”  which  is  a collection 
of  prose  miscellanies,  including  a few  of  his  letters.  It 
is  singular,  that,  in  consequence  of  being  an  ecclesiastic, 
he  thought  it  proper  that  all  his  works  should  be  print- 
ed under  the  name  of  his  brother  Lorenzo,  who  lived  at 
Seville ; and  it  is  yet  more  singular,  jierhaps,  that  they 
were  published,  not  by  himself,  but  by  his  friend,  Lasta- 
hosa,  a gentleman  of  literary  taste,  and  a collector  of 
ancient  works  of  art,  who  lived  at  Huesca  in  Aragon. 
But  however  indirectly  and  cautiously  the  works  of 
Gracian  won  their  way  into  the  world,  they  enjoyed 
great  favor  there,  and  made  much  noise.  His  “ Hero  ” 
went  early  through  six  editions,  and  his  collected  prose 
works,  most  of  which  were  translated  into  French  and 
Italian,  and  some  of  them  into  English  and  Latin,  were 
often  reprinted  in  the  original  Spanish,  both  at  home 
and  abroad.^  ^ 

38  There  are  editions  of  Gracian’s  sa,  Bib.  Nueva,Tom.  III.  pp.  267,  etc., 
Works,  1664,  1667,  1725,  1748,  1757,  and  a pleasant  account  both  of  him  and 
1773,  etc.  I use  that  of  Barcelona,  of  his  friend  Lastanosa  is  to  be  found 
1748, 2tom.  4to.  His  Life  is  in  Latas-  in  Aarsens,  Voyage  d’Espagne,  1667, 

VOL.  III.  25  Q 


194 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H 


From  this  period,  the  rich  old  prose  style  of  Luis  de 
Leon  and  his  contemporaries  may  be  said  to  have  been 
driven  out  of  Spanish  literature.  Lope  de  Vega  and 
Quevedo,  after  resisting  the  innovations  of  cultisnio  for  a 
time,  had  long  before  yielded,  and  Calderon  was  now 
alternately  assailing  the  depraved  taste  of  his  audiences 
and  gratifying  it  by  running  into  extravagances  almost 
as  great  as  those  he  ridiculed.  The  language  of  the 
most  atfected  poetry  passed  into  the  prose  of  the  age, 
and  took  from  it  the  power  and  dignity  which,  even  in 
its  more  declamatory  portions,  had  constituted  its  prom- 
inent merit.  Style  became  fantastic,  and  the  very 
thoughts  that  were  to  be  conveyed  were  not  unfrequent- 
ly  covered  up  with  ingenuities  of  illustration  till  they  dis- 
appeared. In  the  phrase  of  Sancho,  men  wanted  better 
bread  than  could  be  made  of  wheat,  and  rendered  them- 
selves ridiculous  by  attempting  to  obtain  it.  Tropes 
and  figures  of  all  kinds  were  settled  into  formulas  of 
speech,  and  then  were  repeated  appropriately  and  inap- 
propriately, till  the  reader  could  often  anticipate,  from 
the  beginning  of  a sentence,  how  it  would  inevitably  end. 
Every  thing,  mdeed,  in  prose  composition,  as  in  poetry, 
announced  that  corrupted  taste  which  both  precedes  and 
hastens  the  decay  of  a literature ; and  which,  in  the  case 
of  Spain  during  the  latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, was  but  the  concomitant  of  a general  decline  in 
the  arts  and  the  gradual  degradation  of  the  monarchy. 

Among  those  who  wrote  best,  though  still  infected 
with  the  prevailing  influences,  Avas  Zabaleta.  His 
“ Moral  Problems  ” and  “ Famous  Errors,”  but  espe- 


j).  294,  and  in  the  dedication  to  Las-  believe,  the  worst  of  them  ; certainly 
tafiosa  of  the  first  edition  of  Quevedo’s  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  much  ir 
Fortunacon  Seso,”  1650.  His  poem  any  language  more  absurd  and  ex 
on  “ The  Four  Seasons,”  generally  travagant  in  its  false  taste, 
printed  at  the  end  of  his  Works,  is,  I 


Chap.  XXXIX.] 


ZABALETA. 


195 


cially  his  “ Feast  Days  at  Madiid,”  in  which  he  gives 
lively  satirical  sketches  of  the  manners  of  the  metropo- 
lis at  those  periods  when  idleness  brings  the  people 
into  the  streets  and  places  of  amusement,  are  worth 
reading.  But  he  lived  m the  reign  of  Philip  the 
Fourth;  and  so  did  Lozano,  whose  different  ascetic 
works  on  the  character  of  King  Da\id,  if  not  so  good 
as  his  historical  romance  on  the  New  Kings  of  Tole- 
do, are  better  than  any  thing  else  of  the  kmd  in  the 
same  period.  They  are,  however,  the  last  that  can  be 
read.  The  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  does  not  offer 
examples  even  so  favorable  as  these  of  the  remains  and 
ruins  of  a better  taste.  “ The  Labors  of  Hercules,”  by 
Heredia,  in  1682,  and  the  “Moral  Essays  on  Boethius,” 
by  Kamirez,  in  1698,  if  they  serve  for  nothing  else, 
serve  at  least  to  mark  the  ultimate  limits  of  dulness  and 
affectation.  Indeed,  if  it  were  not  for  the  History  of 
Solis,  which  has  been  already  noticed,  we  should  look 
in  vain  for  an  instance  of  respectable  prose  composition 
after  this  last  and  most  degenerate  descendant  pf  the 
House  of  Austria  had  mounted  the  Spanish  throne.'^® 


39  Juan  de  Zabaleta  flourished  as  an 
author  from  1653  to  1667 ; and  his 
works,  which  were  soon  collected,  have 
been  frequently  printed,  1667,  Madrid, 
1728,  4to,  1754,  etc.  (Baena,  Tom. 
III.  p.  227.)  — Christoval  Lozano  (no- 
ticed, pp.  91,  108)  was  known  as  an 
author  from  1656,  by  his  “ David  Arre- 
pentido,”  to  which  he  afterwards  added 
his  “ David  Perseguido,”  in  three  vol- 
umes, and  yet  another  work  on  the 
subject  of  David’s  Example  illustrat- 
ed by  the  Light  of  Christianity  ; all  of 
little  value.  — Juan  Francisco  Fernan- 
dez de  Heredia  wrote  “ Trabajos  y 
Afanes  de  Hercules,”  Madrid,  1682, 
4to.  He  makes  it  a kind  of  book  of  em- 
blems, but  it  is  one  of  the  worst  of  its 
conceited  class.  Latassa  (Bib.  Nov., 
Tom.  IV.  p.  3)  notices  him. 

Of  Antonio  Perez  Ramirez,  I know 
only  the  “ Armas  contra  la  Fortuna,” 


(Madrid,  1698,  4to,)  which  is  a trans- 
lation of  Boethius,  with  dissertations 
in  the  worst  possible  taste  interspersed 
between  its  several  divisions. 

One  other  author  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  placed  at  the  side  of  Loza- 
no, — Joseph  de  la  Vega,  — who  pub- 
lished (at  Amsterdam  in  1688,  12mo) 
three  dialogues,  entitled,  “Confusion 
de  Confusiones,”  to  ridicule  the  pas- 
sion for  stockjobbing  which  came  in 
with  the  Dutch  East  India  Company, 
in  1602,  and  was  then  at  the  height  of 
its  frenzy.  They  are  somewhat  en- 
cumbered with  learning,  but  contain 
anecdotes,  ancient  and  modern,  very 
well  told.  The  author  was  a rich 
Jew  of  Antwerp,  who  had  fled  thither 
from  Spain,  and  published  several 
works  between  1683  and  1693,  but 
none,  I think,  of  much  value.  Amador 
de  los  Rios,  Judios  Espanoles,  p.  633. 


196 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 


Nor  is  this  remarkable.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  rather 
to  be  considered  worthy  of  notice,  that  didactic  prose 
should  have  had  any  merit,  or  obtained  any  success  in 
Spain  during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries. 
For  the  end  it  proposes  is  not,  like  that  of  poetry,  to 
amuse,  but,  like  that  of  philosophy,  to  enlighten  and 
amend ; and  how  dangerous  in  Spain  was  the  social  posi- 
tion of  any  teacher  or  moral  monitor,  who  claimed  for 
himself  that  degree  of  independence  of  opinion  without 
which  instruction  becomes  a dead  form,  needs  not  now 
to  be  set  forth.  Few  persons,  in  that  unhappy  country, 
were  surrounded  with  more  difficulties ; none  were  more 
strictly  watched,  or,  if  they  wandered  from  the  permitted 
paths,  Avere  more  severely  punished. 

Nor  Avas  it  possible  for  such  persons,  by  the  most  no- 
torious earnestness  in  their  convictions  of  the  just  control 
of  the  religion  of  the  state,  or  any  degree  of  faithfulness 
in  their  loyalty,  to  avoid  sometimes  falling  under  the 
rebuke  of  the  jealousy  that  Avatched  each  step  of  their 
course ; a fact  sufficiently  apparent,  Avhen  we  recollect 
that  nearly  all  the  didactic  Avriters  of  merit  during  this 
period,  such  as  Juan  de  Avila,  Luis  de  Leon,  Luis  de 
Granada,  Quevedo,  San  Juan  de  la  Cruz,  and  Santa 
Teresa,  were  persecuted  by  the  Inquisition  or  by  the 
government,  and  the  Avorks  of  every  one  of  them  ex- 
purgated or  forbidden. 

Under  such  oppression,  free  [ind  eloquent  writers,  — 
men  destined  to  teach  and  advance  their  generation,  — 
could  not  be  expected  to  appear,  and  the  few  who  ven- 
tured into  ways  so  dangerous  dwelt  as  much  as  possi- 
ble in  generals,  and  became  mystical,  like  Juan  de  la 
Cruz,  or  extravagant  and  declamatory,  like  Luis  de 
Granada.  Nearly  all,  — strictly  prevented  from  using 
the  logic  of  a wise  and  liberal  philosophy,  — fell  into 


Chap.  XXXIX.]  CHARACTER  OF  DIDACTIC  PROSE  197 

pedantry,  from  an  anxious  desire,  wherever  it  was  pos- 
sible, to  lean  upon  authority;  so  that,  from  Luis  de 
Leon  down  to  the  most  ordinary  writer,  who,  in  a 
prefatory  letter  of  approbation,  wished  to  give  currency 
to  the  opinions  of  a friend,  no  man  seemed  to  feel  at 
ease  unless  he  could  justify  and  sustain  what  he  had  to 
say  by  citations  from  the  Scriptures,  the  fathers  of  the 
Church,  and  the  ancient  and  scholastic  philosophers. 
Thus,  Spanish  didactic  prose,  which,  from  its  original 
elements  and  tendencies,  seemed  destined  to  wear  the 
attractions  of  an  elevated  and  eloquent  style,  gradually 
became  so  formal,  awkward,  and  pedantic,  that,  with 
a few  striking  exceptions,  it  can  only  be  said  to  have 
maintained  a doubtful  and  difficult  existence  during  the 
long  period  when  the  less  suspected  and  less  oppressed 
portions  of  the  literature  of  the  country  — its  drama 
and  its  lyric  poetry  — were  in  the  meridian  of  their 


success. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


Concluding  Remarks  on  the  Second  Period. — Decay  of  the  National 
Character.  — Diminished  Number  of  Writers  and  Diminished  In- 
terest OF  THE  Public  in  Letters.  — Ruin  of  the  State  begun  in 
THE  Time  of  Philip  the  Second,  and  continued  in  the  Reigns  of 
Philip  the  Third,  Philip  the  Fourth,  and  Charles  the  Second. — 
Effects  of  this  Condition  of  Things  on  Literary  Culture.  — False 
Influences  of  Religion, — False  Influences  of  Loyalty. 

It  is  impossible  to  study  with  care  the  Spanish  lit- 
erature of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  not  feel  that 
we  are  in  the  presence  of  a general  decay  of  the  nation- 
al character.  At  every  step,  as  we  advance,  the  num- 
ber of  writers  that  surround  us  is  diminished.  In 
what  crowds  they  were  gathered  together  during  the 
reigns  of  Philip  the  Second  and  Philip  the  Third,  we 
may  see  in  the  long  lists  of  poets  given  by  Cervantes 
in  his  “Galatea”  and  his  “Journey  to  Parnassus,”  and 
by  Lope  de  Vega  in  his  “ Laurel  of  Apollo.”  But  in 
the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fourth,  though  the  theatre, 
from  accidental  circumstances,  flourished  more  than 
ever,  the  other  departments  showed  symptoms  of  de- 
cline ; and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  wherever 
we  turn,  the  number  of  authors  sinks  away,  till  it  is 
obvious  that  some  great  change  must  take  place,  or 
elegant  literature  in  Spain  will  speedily  become  ex- 
tinct. 

The  public  interest,  too,  in  the  few  writers  that  re- 
mained, was  gone.  At  least,  that  general,  national 
interest,  which  alone  can  sustain  the  life  it  alone  can 


Chap.  XL.]  DECAY  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.  199 

give  to  the  literature  of  any  country,  was  no  longer 
there;  and  all  the  favor,  that  Spanish  poets  and  men 
of  letters  enjoyed  at  the  end  of  the  century,  came  from 
the  court  and  the  superficial  fashion  of  the  time,  which 
patronized  the  affected  style  of  those  followers  of  Gon- 
gora,  whose  bad  taste  seemed  to  go  on  increasing  in 
extravagance,  as  talent  among  them  grew  more  rare. 

Every  thing,  meanwhile,  announced,  that  the  great 
foundations  of  the  national  character  were  giving  way 
on  all  sides;  and  that  the  failing  literature  of  the 
country  was  only  one  of  the  phases  and  signs  of  the 
coming  overthrow  of  its  institutions.  The  decay  which 
Avas  so  visible  on  the  surface  of  things  had,  howe\’er, 
long  mined  unseen  beneath  what  had  been  thought  a 
period  of  extraordinary  security  and  glory.  Charles 
the  Fifth,  Avhile,  on  the  one  side,  by  the  war  of  the 
Comuneros,  he  had  crushed  nearly  all  of  political  liberty 
that  Cardinal  Ximenes  had  left  in  the  old  constitutions 
of  Castile,  had  given,  on  the  other,  by  his  magnificent 
foreign  conquests,  a false  direction  to  the  character  of 
his  people  at  home ; — both  tendmg  alike  to  waste  away 
that  vigor  and  independence  Avhich  the  Moorish  wars 
had  nourished  in  the  hearts  of  the  nation,  and  Avhich 
had  so  long  constituted  its  real  strength.  Philip  the 
Second  had  been  less  successful  than  his  father  in  his 
great  labors  to  advance  the  permanent  prosperity  of 
the  monarchy.  He  had,  indeed,  added  Portugal  and  the 
Philippine  Islands  to  his  empire,  which  noAV  compre- 
hended above  a hundred  millions  of  human  beings,  and 
seemed  to  threaten  the  interests  of  all  the  rest  of  Europe. 
But  such  doubtful  benefits  were  heavily  overbalanced 
by  the  religious  rebellion  of  the  Netherlands,  the  fatal 
source  of  unnumbered  mischiefs  ; by  the  exhausting 
wars  Avith  Elizabeth  of  England  and  Henry  the  Fourth 


200 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II 


of  France ; by  the  contempt  for  labor,  that  followed 
the  extraordinary  prevalence  of  a spirit  of  military  ad- 
venture, and  broke  down  the  industry  of  the  country  ; 
by  the  vast  increase  of  the  ecclesiastical  institutions, 
which  created  a ruinous  amount  of  pensioned  idleness ; 
and  by  the  wasteful  luxury  brought  in  with  the  gold  of 
America,  which  seemed  to  corrupt  whatever  it  touched ; 
so  that,  when  that  wary  prince  died,  he  left  an  im- 
poverished people,  whose  energies  he  had  overstrained 
and  impaired  by  his  despotism,  and  whose  character  he 
had  warped  and  misdirected  by  his  unrelenting  and 
unscrupulous  bigotry.^ 

His  successor,  feeble-minded  and  superstitious,  was 
neither  able  to  repair  the  results  of  such  mischiefs,  nor 
to  contend  with  the  difficulties  they  entailed  upon  his 
country.  The  power  of  the  clergy,  grown  enormous 
by  the  favor  of  Philip  the  Second  and  the  consolidated 
influence  of  the  Jesuits,  continued  to  gain  strength,  as 
it  were  of  itself;  and,  under  the  direct  persuasions  of 
this  mighty  hierarchy,  nearly  six  hundred  thousand 
descendants  of  Moors  — who,  though  preserving,  as 
their  fathers  had  done  for  a century,  the  external  ap- 
pearances of  Christianity,  were  yet  suspected  of  being 
Mohammedans  at  heart  — were  now,  by  a great  crime 
of  state,  expelled  from  the  land  of  their  birth  ; a crime 
followed  by  injuries  to  the  agriculture  and  wealth  of 
the  South  of  Spain,  and  indeed  of  the  whole  country, 
from  which  they  have  never  recovered.^ 


1 There  is  a remarkable  paper,  in 
the  sixth  volume  of  the  “ Seminario 
Erudito,”  on  the  causes  of  the  de- 
cline of  Spain  ; — remarkable  because, 
though  written  in  the  reign  of  Philip 
IV.,  by  Juan  de  Palafox  y Mendoza, 
an  ecclesiastic  of  rank,  whom  Charles 
III.  afterwards  asked  to  have  canon- 


ized, it  yet  attributes  the  origin  of  the 
prostration  under  which  Spain  sulfered 
in  his  time  mainly  to  the  war  with  the 
Netherlands. 

2 There  is  a great  discrepancy  in 
the  accounts  of  the  number  of  Moris- 
cos  expelled  from  Spain,  1609  - 11,  — 
several  making  it  a million,  and  one 


Chap.  XL.]  DECAY  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.  201 

The  easy,  gay  selfishness  of  Philip  the  Fourth,  and 
the  open  profligacy  of  his  ministers,  gave  increased  ac- 


reducing-  it  so  low  as  a hundred  and 
si.xty  thousand.  But,  whatever  may 
have  been  the  number  expelled,  all 
accounts  agree  as  to  the  disastrous  ef- 
fects produced  on  a population  already 
decaying  by  the  loss  of  so  many  per- 
sons, who  had  long  been  the  most 
skilful  manufacturers  and  agricultur- 
ists in  the  kingdom;  effects  to  which 
the  many  despoblados  noted  on  our 
recent  maps  of  Spain  still  bear  melan- 
choly testimony.  (Clemencin,  Notes 
to  Don  Quixote,  Parte  II.  c.  51.)  In 
stating  six  hundred  thousand  to  have 
been  the  number  driven  out,  I have 
taken  the  reckoning  of  Gircourt, 
(Tom.  III.  p.  103,)  which  seems 
made  with  care. 

These  unhappy  persons  had  among 
them  a good  deal  of  Castilian  culture, 
whose  traces  still  remain  in  manu- 
scripts, which,  like  that  of  the  old 
poem  of  Joseph,  already  described, 
(Period  I.  chap.  5,)  are  composed  in 
Spanish,  but  are  written  throughout  in 
the  Arabic  character.  Of  parts  of 
two  such  manuscripts  I possess  copies, 
through  the  kindness  of  Don  Pascual  de 
Gayangos.  The  first  is  a poem  writ- 
ten in  1603,  and  entitled,  “Discourse 
on  the  Light,  and  Descent,  and  Line- 
age of  our  Chief  and  Blessed  Prophet, 
Mohammed  Calam,  composed  and 
compiled  by  fiis  Servant,  who  most 
needs  his  Pardon,  Mohammed  Raba- 
dan,  a Native  of  Rueda,  on  the  River 
Xalon.”  It  is  divided  into  eight  His- 
tories, of  which  I possess  the  fourth, 
entitled,  “History  of  Hexim,”  who 
was  one  of  the  ancestors  of  the  Prophet. 
It  contains  above  two  thousand  lines 
in  the  short,  Castilian  ballad  measure, 
and  is  remarkably  Arabic  and  Mo- 
hammedan in  its  general  tone,  though 
with  occasional  allusions  to  the  Greek 
mythology.  It  is,  too,  not  without 
poetical  merit,  as  in  the  following 
lines,  which  open  the  second  canto", 
and  describe  the  auspicious  morning 
of  Hexim’s  marriage. 

A1  tiempo  que  el  alba  bella 

Ensena  su  rostro  alegre, 

Y,  rompientlo  las  tinieblas, 

Su  Clara  luz  resplandecej 

VOL.  HI. 


Dando  las  nuevas  que  el  dia 
En  su  seguimienio  viene, 

Y el  roxo  Apolo  tras  ella, 

Dexando  los  campos  verdes ; 

Quando  las  aves  nocturnas 
Se  recogen  en  su  albergue, 

Y las  que  la  luz  gobiernan 
El  delgado  vienlo  hienden; 

Quando  los  hombres  despieitan 

Y el  pesado  sueno  vencen, 

Para  dar  si  su  Hacedor 

El  debito  que  le  deben  ; — 

En  este  tiempo  la  compania 
Del  hijo  de  Abdulmunef 
Se  levantan  y aperciben 
Al  casamiento  solemne. 

In  the  preface  to  the  whole  poem,  the 
author  says  Allah  alone  knows  liow 
much  labor  it  has  cost  him  to  collect 
the  manuscripts  necessary  for  his  task, 
“ scattered,”  he  adds,  “ as  they  were, 
all  over  Spain,  and  lost  and  hidden 
through  fear  of  the  Inquisition.” 

The  other  work  to  which  I refer  is 
chiefly  in  prose,  and  is  anonymous.  Its 
author  says  he  was  driven  from  Spain 
in  1610,  and  was  landed  at  Tunis  with 
above  three  thousand  of  his  unhappy 
countrymen,  who,  through  the  long 
abode  of  their  race  in  a Christian 
land  and  under  the  fierce  persecutions 
of  the  Inquisition,  had  not  only  so  lost 
a knowledge  of  the  rites  and  cere- 
monies of  their  religion,  that  it  was 
necessary  to  indoctrinate  them  like; 
children,  but  had  so  lost  all  proper 
knowledge  of  the  Arabic,  that  it  was 
necessary  to  do  it  through  the  Castil- 
ian. The  Bashaw  of  "Tunis,  there- 
fore, sent  for  the  author,  and  com- 
manded him  to  write  a book  in  Castil- 
ian, for  the  instruction  of  these  singular 
neoph5rtes.  He  did  so,  and  produced 
the  present  work,  which  he  called 
“ Mumin,”  or  the  Believer  in  Allah  ; 
a word  which  he  uses  to  signify  a 
city  populous  and  fortified,  which  is 
attacked  by  the  Vices  and  defended  by 
the  Virtues  of  the  Mohammedan  re- 
ligion, and  in  which  one  of  the  person- 
ages relates  a history  of  his  own  life, 
adventures,  and  sufferings ; all  so 
given  as  to  instruct,  sometimes  by  di- 
rect precept  and  sometimes  by  exam- 
ple, the  newly  arrived  Moriscos  in 
their  duties  and  faith.  It  is,  of  course, 
partly  allegorical  and  romantic.  Its 
air  is  often  Arabic,  and  so  is  its  style 


26 


202 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


tivity  to  the  causes  that  were  hastening  on  the  threat- 
ened ruin.  Catalonia  broke  out  into  rebellion ; Jamaica 
was  seized  by  the  English ; Koussillon  was  ceded  to 
France ; Portugal,  which  had  never  been  heartily  incor- 
porated into  the  monarchy,  resumed  her  ancient  place 
among  the  independent  nations  of  the  earth ; — every 
thing,  in  short,  showed  how  the  external  relations  of 
the  state  were  disturbed  and  endangered.  Its  internal 
condition,  meanwhile,  was  no  less  shaken.  The  coin, 
notwithstanding  the  wise  warnings  of  Mariana,  had 
been  adulterated  anew ; the  taxes  had  been  shamelessly 
increased,  while  the  interest  on  the  ever-growing  public 
debt  was  dishonestly  diminished.  Men,  every^vhere,  be- 
gan to  be  alarmed  at  the  signs  of  the  times.  The  timid 
took  shelter  in  celibacy  and  the  institutions  of  the 
Church.  The  bolder  emigrated.  At  last,  the  universal 
pressure  began  to  be  visible  in  the  state  of  the  popula- 
tion. Whole  towns  and  villages  were  deserted.  Seville, 
the  ancient  capital  of  the  monarchy,  lost  three  quarters 


occasionally ; but  some  of  its  scenes 
are  between  lovers  at  grated  win- 
dows, as  if  in  a Castilian  city,  and  it 
is  interspersed  with  Castilian  poems 
by  Montemayor,  Gongora,  and  the 
Argensolas,  with,  perhaps,  some  by 
the  author  himself,  who  seems  to  have 
been  a man  of  cultivation  and  of  a 
gentle  spirit.  Of  this  manuscript  I 
have  eighty  pages,  — about  a fifth  of 
the  whole. 

Further  notices  on  the  Morisco- 
Spanish  literature  may  be  found  in  an 
account  by  the  Orientalist,  Silvestre  de 
Sacy,  of  two  manuscripts  in  France, 
like  those  just  described  (Ochoa, 
Manuscritos  Espaiioles,  1844,  pp.  6 - 
21) ; but  a more  ample  and  satisfactory 
discussion  of  it  occurs  in  a learned 
article  in  the  British  and  Foreign  Re- 
view, January,  1839. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  Mo- 
risco  was  substituted  for  Moro,  after 
the  overthrow  of  the  Moorish  power 
in  Spain,  as  an  expression  of  the  con- 


tempt with  which  the  Christian  Span- 
iards have  never  ceased  to  pursue 
their  old  conquerors  and  hated  enemies, 
from  the  time  of  the  fall  of  Granada  to 
the  present  day. 

Encouraged  by  the  expulsion  of  the 
Jews,  in  1492,  and  by  that  of  the 
Moors,  in  1609 - 11,  Don  Sancho  de 
Moncada,  a professor  in  the  University 
of  Toledo,  addressed  Philip  III.,  in  a 
discourse  published  in  1619,  urging 
that  monarch  to  drive  out  the  Gypsies. 
But  he  failed.  His  discourse  is  in 
Hidalgo,  “ Romances  de  Germania,” 
(Madrid,  1779,  8vo,)  and  is  translated 
by  Borrow,  in  his  remarkable  work  on 
the  Gypsies  (London,  1841,  8vo,  Vol. 
I.  chap.  xi.).  Salazar  de  Mendoza,  at 
the  end  of  his  “ Dignidades  de  Cas- 
tilla,” published  in  i618,  says  he  had 
himself  prepared  a memorial  to  the 
same  effect,  for  driving  out  the  Gypsies ; 
and  he  adds,  in  a true  Castilian  spirit, 
that  “it  is  being  over-nice  to  tolerate 
such  a pernicious  and  perverse  race.” 


Chap.  XL.]  DECAY  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.  203 

of  its  inhabitants ; Toledo  one  third ; Segovia,  Medina 
del  Campo,  and  others  of  the  large  cities,  fell  off  still 
more,  not  only  in  their  numbers  and  opulence,  but  in 
whatever  goes  to  make  up  the  great  aggregate  of  civil- 
ization. The  whole  land,  in  fact,  was  impoverished, 
and  was  falling  into  a premature  decay. 

The  necessary  results  of  such  a deplorable  state  of 
things  are  yet  more  apparent  in  the  next  reign,  — the 
unhappy  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  — which  began 
with  the  troubles  mcident  to  a long  minority,  and  ended 
with  a failure  in  the  regular  line  of  succession,  and  a 
contest  for  the  throne.  It  was  a dreary  period,  with 
marks  of  dilapidation  and  ruin  on  all  sides.  Beginning 
at  the  southern  borders  of  France,  and  following  the 
coast  by  Barcelona  and  Gibraltar  round  to  Cadiz,  not 
one  of  the  great  fortresses,  which  were  the  keys  of  the 
kingdom,  was  in  a state  to  defend  itself  against  the  most 
moderate  force  by  which  it  might  be  assailed.  On  the 
Atlantic,  the  old  arsenals,  from  which  the  Armada  had 
gone  forth,  were  empty;  and  the  art  of  ship-building 
had  been  so  long  neglected,  that  it  was  almost,  or  quite 
lost.^  And,  in  the  capital  and  at  court,  the  revenues  of 
the  country,  which  had  long  been  exhausted  and  antici- 
pated, were  at  last  unable  to  provide  for  the  common 
wants  of  the  government,  and  sometimes  even  failed  to 
furnish  forth  the  royal  table  with  its  accustomed  pro- 
priety ; so  that  the  envoy  of  Austria  expressed  his 
regret  at  having  accepted  the  place  of  ambassador  at  a 
court  where  he  was  compelled  to  witness  a misery  so 
discreditable.^ 

It  was  a new  lesson  to  the  world  in  the  'vicissitudes 

3 Comentario  de  la  Guerra  de  Espa-  4 Tapia,  Hist,  de  la  Civilizacion 

Ha,  por  el  Marques  de  San  Phelipe,  Espaiiola,  Madrid,  1840,  12mo,  Tom. 
Genova,  s.  a.,  4to,  Tom.  I.  Lib.  II.,  III.  p.  167. 
ano  1701. 


204  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 

of  empire.  No  country  in  Christendom  had,  from  such 
a height  of  power  as  that  which  Spain  occupied  in  the 
time  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  fallen  into  such  an  abyss  of 
degradation  as  that  in  which  every  proud  Spaniard  felt 
Spain  to  be  sunk,  when  the  last  of  the  great  House  of 
Austria  approached  the  grave,  believing  himself  to  be 
under  the  influence  of  sorcery,  and  seeking  relief  by 
exorcisms  which  would  have  disgraced  the  credulity  of 
the  Middle  Ages ; — all,  too,  at  the  time  when  France 
was  jubilant  with  the  victories  of  Conde,  and  England 
preparing  for  the  age  of  Marlborough.'’ 

In  any  country,  such  a decay  in  the  national  charac- 
ter and  power  would  be  accompanied  by  a correspond- 
ing, if  not  an  equal,  decay  in  its  literature ; but  in  Spain, 
where  both  had  always  been  so  intimately  connected, 
and  where  both  had  rested,  in  such  a remarkable  de- 
gree, on  the  same  foundations,  the  wise  who  looked  on 
from  a distance  could  not  fail  to  anticipate  a rapid  and 
disastrous  decline  of  all  that  was  intellectual  and  ele- 
gant. And  so,  in  fact,  it  proved.  The  old  religion  of 
the  country,  — the  most  prominent  of  all  the  national 
characteristics,  — the  mighty  impulse  which,  in  the  days 
of  the  Moors,  had  done  every  thing  but  work  miracles, 
— was  noAV  so  perverted  from  its  true  character  by  the 
enormous  growth  of  the  intolerance  which  sprang  up 
originally  almost  as  a virtue,  that  it  had  become  a means 
of  oppression  such  as  Europe  had  iieA^er  before  witness- 
ed. Through  the  whole  period  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  which  Ave  liaA^e  just  gone  over, — 


° The  details  — disgusting  enough 
— are  given  by  L.  F.  Moratin,  in  the 
notes  to  his  edition  of  the  “ Auto  da 
Fe  de  Logroiio,  del  Aiio  1610,”  a work 
originally  published  for  general  edifi- 
cation, by  one  of  the  persons  concerned 
in  the  auto  itself,  and  certified  to  be 


true  by  others  ; but  reprinted  (Cadiz, 
1812,  12mo)  by  Moratin,  the  comic 
poet,  to  show  the  ignorance  and  bru- 
tality of  all  who  had  a hand  in  it 
There  is  a play  on  the  subject  by  Gi. 
y Zarate,  1837  ; but  it  does  not  respect 
the  truth  of  history. 


Chap,  XL  ] 


BIGOTRY  AND  PERSECUTION. 


205 


from  the  fall  of  Granada  to  the  extinction  of  the  Aus- 
trian dynasty,  — the  Inquisition,  as  the  grand  exponent 
of  the  power  of  religion  in  Spain,  had  maintained,  not 
only  an  uninterrupted  authority,  but,  by  constantly  in- 
creasing its  relations  to  the  state,  and  lending  itself  more 
and  more  freely  to  the  punishment  of  whatever  v/as  ob- 
noxious to  the  government,  had  effectually  broken  down 
all  that  remained,  from  earlier  days,  of  intellectual  inde- 
pendence and  manly  freedom.  But  this  was  not  done, 
and  could  not  be  done,  without  the  assent  of  the  great 
body  of  the  people,  or  without  such  an  active  coopera- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  government  and  the  higher 
classes  as  brought  degradation  and  ruin  to  all  who 
shared  in  its  spirit. 

Unhappily,  this  spirit,  mistaken  for  the  religion 
that  had  sustained  them  through  their  long-protracted 
contest  with  their  infidel  invaders,  was  all  but  uni- 
versal in  Spain  during  this  whole  period.  The  first  and 
the  last  of  the  House  of  Austria,  — Charles  the  Fifth 
and  the  feeblest  of  his  descendants,  — if  alike  in  nothing 
else,  were  alike  in  the  zeal  with  which  they  sustained 
the  Holy  Office  while  they  lived,  and  with  which,  by 
their  testaments,  they  commended  it  to  the  support  and 
veneration  of  their  respective  successors.®  Nor  did  the 
intervening  kings  show  less  deference  to  its  authority. 
The  first  royal  act  of  Philip  the  Second,  when  he  came 
from  the  Low  Countries  to  assume  the  crown  of 
Spain,  was  to  celebrate  an  auto  da  fe  at  Valladolid.^ 
When  the  young  and  gay  daughter  of  Henry  the  Sec- 
ond of  France  arrived  at  Toledo,  in  1560,  that  city 
offered  an  auto  da  fo  as  part  of  the  rejoicings  deemed 
appropriate  to  her  wedding ; and  the  same  thing  was 

6 Tapia,  Hist,  de  la  Civilizacion,  7 Llorente,  Hist.,  Tom.  H.,  1817, 
Tom.  HI.  p.  77  and  p.  168.  Sando-  p.  239. 
val,  Hist.,  Tom.  H.  p.  657. 

R 


206 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  II. 


done  by  Madrid,  in  1632,  for  another  French  princess, 
when  she  gave  birth  to  an  heir  to  the  crown ; ® — odious 
proofs  of  the  degree  to  which  bigotry  had  stifled  both 
the  dictates  of  an  enlightened  reason  and  the  common 
feelings  of  humanity. 

But  in  all  this  the  people  and  their  leaders  rejoiced. 
When  a nobleman,  about  to  die  for  adherence  to  the 
Protestant  faith,  passed  the  balcony  where  Philip  the 
Second  sat  in  state,  and  appealed  to  him  not  to  see  his 
innocent  subjects  thus  cruelly  put  to  death,  the  mon- 
arch replied,  that,  if  it  were  his  own  son,  he  would 
gladly  carry  the  fagots  for  his  execution ; and  the 
answer  was  received  at  the  time,  and  recorded  after- 
wards, as  one  worthy  of  the  head  of  the  mightiest  em- 
pire in  the  world.®  And  again,  in  1680,  when  Charles 
the  Second  was  induced  to  signify  his  desire  to  enjoy, 
with  his  young  bride,  the  spectacle  of  an  auto  da  fe, 
the  artisans  of  Madrid  volunteered  in  a body  to  erect 
the  needful  amphitheatre,  and  labored  "with  such  enthu- 
siasm, that  they  completed  the  vast  structure  in  an  in- 
credibly short  space  of  time;  cheering  one  another  at 
their  work  with  devout  exhortations,  and  declaring  that, 
if  the  materials  furnished  them  should  fail,  they  would 
pull  down  their  own  houses  in  order  to  obtain  what 
might  be  wanting  to  complete  the  holy  task.*® 

8 Ibid.,  Tom.  II.  p.  385,  Tom.  IV.  as  if  describing  a magnificent  theatri- 

p.  3.  cal  pageant,  the  details  of  the  scene, 

9 Tapia,  Hist.,  Tom.  IH.  p.  88.  which  began  at  seven  o’clock  in  the 

10  One  of  the  most  remarkable  books  morning  of  June  30th,  and  was  not  over 
that  can  be  consulted,  to  illustrate  the  till  nine  o'clock  of  the  following  morn- 
character  and  feelings  of  all  classes  of  ing,  the  king  and  queen  sitting  in  their 
society  in  Spain  at  the  end  of  the  box  or  balcony,  to  witness  it,  fourteen 
seventeenth  century,  is  the  “ Rela-  hours  of  that  time.  Eighty-five  gran- 
cion,”  etc.,  of  this  “ Auto  General  ” dees  entered  themselves  as  especial 
of  1680,  published  immediately  after-  familiares,  or  servants,  of  the  Holy 
wards  at  Madrid,  by  Joseph  del  Olmo,  Office,  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion; 
one  of  the  persons  who  had  been  most  and  the  king  sent  from  his  own  hand 
busy  in  its  arrangements.  It  is  a the  first  faggot  to  the  accursed  pile, 
small  quarto  of  308  pages,  and  gives.  The  whole  number  of  victims  ex- 


Chap.  XL.] 


FALSE  LOYALTY. 


207 


Nor  had  the  principle  of  loyalty,  always  so  prominent 
in  the  Spanish  character,  become  less  perverted  and 
• mischievous  than  the  religious  principle.  It  offered  its 
sincere  homage  alike  to  the  cold  severity  of  Philip  the 
Second,  to  the  weak  bigotry  of  Philip  the  Third,  to  the 
luxurious  selfishness  of  Philip  the  Fourth,  and  to  the 
miserable  imbecility  of  Charles  the  Second.  The  waste 
and  profligacy  of  such  royal  favorites  as  the  Duke  of 
Lerma  and  the  Count  Duke  Olivares,  which  ended  in 
national  bankruptcy  and  disgrace,  failed  seriously  to 
affect  the  sentiments  of  the  people  towards  the  person 
of  the  monarch,  or  to  change  their  persuasions  that 
their  earthly  sovereign  was  to  be  addressed  in  words 
and  with  feelings  similar  to  those  with  which  they  ap- 
proached the  Majesty  of  Heaven."  The  king  — merely 
because  he  was  the  king  — w^as  looked  upon  substan- 
tially as  he  had  been  in  the  days  of  Saint  Ferdinand 
and  the  “ Partidas,”  when  he  was  accounted  the  direct 
vicegerent  of  Heaven,  and  the  personal  proprietor  of  all 
those  portions  of  the  globe  which  he  had  inherited  with 
his  crown.’^  The  Due  de  Vendome,  therefore,  showed 
his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Spanish  character,  when, 
in  the  War  of  the  Succession,  — Madrid  being  in  posses- 
sion of  the  enemy,  and  every  thing  seeming  to  be  lost,  — 


hibited  was  one  hundred  and  twenty, 
of  whom  twenty-one  were  burnt  alive  ; 
but  it  does  not  appear  that  the  royal 
party  actually  witnessed  this  portion 
of  the  atrocities.  From  the  whole  ac- 
count, however,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  devout  Spaniards  generally  re- 
garded the  exhibition  with  favor,  and 
most  of  them  with  a much  stronger 
feeling.  Madame  d’Aulnoy  (Voyage, 
Tom.  III.  p.  154)  had  a description  of 
the  ceremonies  intended  for  this  auto 
da  fe  given  to  her,  as  if  it  were  to  be 
an  honor  to  the  monarchy,  by  one  of 
the  Counsellors  of  the  Inquisition  ; but 


I think  she  left  Madrid  before  it  oc- 
curred. 

tt  See  the  first  of  Doblado’s  re- 
markable Letters,  where  he  says, 
“You  hear  from  the  pulpit  the 
duties  that  men  owe  to  ‘ both  their 
Majesties’ ; and  a foreigner  is  often 
surprised  at  the  hopes  expressed  by 
Spaniards,  that  ‘ his  Majesty  ’ wull 
be  pleased  to  grant  them  life  and 
health  for  some  years  more.”  The 
Diet,  of  the  Academy,  1736,  verb. 
Magestad,  illustrates  this  still  fur- 
ther. 

12  Partida  Segunda,  Tit.  XIII. 


208  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  H. 

he  still  declared,  that,  if  the  persons  of  the  king,  the 
queen,  and  the  prince  were  but  safe,  he  would  himself 
answer  for  final  success.'^  In  fact,  the  old  principle  of 
loyalty,  sunk  into  a submission  — voluntary,  it  is  true, 
and  not  without  grace,  but  still  an  unhesitating  sub- 
mission— to  the  mere  authority  of  the  king,  seemed 
to  have  become  the  only  efficient  bond  of  connection 
between  the  crown  and  its  subjects,  and  the  main  re- 
source of  the  state  for  the  preservation  of  social  order. 
The  nation  ceased  to  claim  its  most  important  rights, 
if  they  came  in  conflict  with  the  rights  claimed  by  the 
royal  prerogative ; so  that  the  resistance  of  Aragon  in 
the  case  of  Perez,  and  that  of  Catalonia  against  the 
oppressive  administration  of  the  Count  Duke  Olivares, 
were  easily  put  down  by  the  zeal  of  the  very  descend- 
ants of  the  Comuneros  of  Castile. 

It  is  this  degradation  of  the  loyalty  and  religion  of 
the  country,  infecting  as  it  did  every  part  of  the  nation- 
al character,  which  we  have  felt  to  be  undermining  the 
general  culture  of  Spain  during  the  seventeenth  centu- 
ry ; its  workings  being  sometimes  visible  on  the  surface, 
and  sometimes  hidden  by  the  vast  and  showy  apparatus 
of  despotism  and  superstition  under  which  it  was  often 
concealed  even  from  its  victims.  But  it  is  a most 
melancholy  fact  in  the  case,  that  whatever  of  Spanish 
literature  survived  at  the  end  of  this  period  found  its 
nourishment  in  such  feelings  of  religion  and  loyalty 
as  still  sustained  the  forms  of  the  monarchy,  — an  im- 
perfect and  unhealthy  life,  wasting  away  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  death.  At  last,  as  we  approach  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  century,  the  Inquisition  and  the  despotism 
seem  to  be  everywhere  present,  and  to  have  cast  their 


Tapia,  Hist.,  Tom.  IV.  p.  19. 


Chap.  XL.]  FAILURE  OF  THE  NATIONAL  LITERATURE.  209 

blight  over  every  thing.  All  the  writers  of  the  time 
peld  to  their  influences,  but  none  in  a manner  more 
painful  to  -witness,  than  Calderon  and  Solis;  the  two 
whose  names  close  up  the  period,  and  leave  so  little  to 
hope  for  the  future.  For  the  “ Autos  ” of  Calderon  and 
the  “ History  ” of  Solis  were  undoubtedly  regarded,  both 
by  their  authors  and  by  the  public,  as  works  eminently 
religious  in  their  nature;  and  the  respect,  and  even 
reverence,  with  which  each  of  these  great  men  treated 
the  wretched  and  imbecile  Charles  the  Second,  were 
as  undoubtedly  accounted  to  them  by  their  contem- 
poraries for  religious  loyalty  and  patriotism.  At  the 
present  day,  we  cannot  doubt  that  a literature  which 
rests  in  any  considerable  degree  on  such  foundations 
must  be  near  to  its  fall.’^ 


1“*  See  the  end  of  “ El  Segundo 
Scipion,”  and  that  of  “El  Segundo 
Blason  de  Austria,”  by  Calderon; 
and  the  Dedication  of  his  History  to 
Charles  II.,  by  Solis,  in  which,  with 
a slight  touch  of  the  affectations  of 
cultismo,  which  Solis  did  not  always 
avoid,  he  tells  this  “ king  of  shreds 
and  patches”  ; “ I find,  in  the  shadow 


of  your  Majesty,  the  splendor  that  is 
wanting  in  my  own  works.”  In  the 
same  spirit,  Lupercio  de  Argensola 
made  the  canonization  of  San  Diego 
a sort  of  prophetical  canonization  of 
Philip  II.,  in  a cancion  of  no  mean 
merit  as  a poem,  but  one  that  shocks 
all  religious  feeling,  by  recalling  the 
apotheosis  of  the  Roman  emperors. 


R * 


VOL.  HI. 


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] 


HISTORY 

OF 

SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


THIRD  PERIOD. 


The  Literature  that  existed  in  Spain  between  the  Accession 
OF  the  Bourbon  Family  and  the  Invasion  of  Bonaparte  ; 
OR  FROM  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CeNTURY  TO 
THE  Early  Part  of  the  Nineteenth. 


• '1 

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J,  . .'  ';  'A.  T.  *■  • '*  ' . ■*'  ^ 


I 


i 


HISTORY 


OF 


SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


THIRD  PERIOD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

War  of  the  Succession. — Bourbon  Family. — Philip  the  Fifth. — 
Academy  of  the  Spanish  Language  : its  Dictionary,  Orthography, 
Grammar,  and  other  Works.  — Academy  of  Barcelona. — Academy 
OF  History.  — State  of  Letters.  — Poetry  : Moraes,  Barnuevo, 
Reynosa,  Zevallos,  Lobo,  Benegasi,  Pitillas. 

Charles  the  Second  was  gathered  to  his  fathers  on 
the  first  day  of  Novemher,  in  the  year  1700.  How  low 
he  left  the  intellectual  culture  of  his  country,  and  how 
completely  the  old  national  literature  had  died  out  in 
his  reign,  we  have  already  seen.  But,  before  there 
could  be  any  serious  thought  of  a revival  from  this  dis- 
astrous state  of  things,  a civil  war  was  destined  to  sweep 
over  the  land,  and  still  further  exhaust  its  resources. 
Austria  and  France,  it  had  been  long  understood,  would 
make  pretensions  to  the  throne  of  Spain,  so  soon  as  it 
should  be  left  vacant  by  the  extinction  of  the  reigning 
dynasty ; and  the  partisans  of  each  of  these  great  pow- 
ers were  numerous  and  confident  of  success,  not  only  in 
Spain,  but  throughout  Europe.  At  this  moment,  while 


214 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


standing  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  — and  knowing  that 
he  stood  there,  — the  last,  unhappy  descendant  of  the 
House  of  Austria,  with  many  misgivings  and  a heart-felt 
reluctance,  finally  announced  his  preference  ; and,  by  a 
secret  political  testament,  declared  the  Duke  of  Anjou, 
second  son  of  the  Dauphin  and  grandson  of  Louis  the 
Fourteenth  of  France,  to  be  sole  heir  to  his  throne  and 
dominions. 

The  decision  was  not  unexpected,  and  was,  perhaps, 
as  wise  as  a wiser  king  would  have  made  rmder  similar 
circumstances.  But  it  was  not  the  more  likely,  on 
either  account,  to  be  acquiesced  in.  Austria  declared 
war  against  the  new  dynasty,  as  soon  as  the  will  of  the 
deceased  monarch  was  divulged ; and  England  and  Hol- 
land, outraged  by  the  bad  faith  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
who,  hardly  two  years  before,  had  made  an  arrangement 
■with  them  for  a wholly  different  settlement  of  the  Span- 
ish question,  soon  joined  her.  The  war,  known  as 
“ the  War  of  the  Succession,”  became  general  in  its 
character ; Spain  was  invaded  by  the  allied  powers ; 
and  the  contest  for  its  throne  was  kept  up  on  the  soil 
of  that  unfortunate  country,  partly  by  foreign  troops, 
and  partly  by  divisions  among  its  own  people,  until 
1713,  when  the  treaty  of  Utrecht  confirmed  the  claims 
of  the  Bourbon  family,  and  gave  peace  to  Europe,  wea- 
ried with  blood. 

As  far  as  Spain  was  concerned,  the  results  of  this 
war  were  most  important.  On  the  one  hand,  she  lost 
by  it  nearly  half  of  her  European  dominions,  and  fell, 
if  not  in  proportion  to  such  a loss,  yet  very  greatly,  in 
the  scale  of  nations.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  vast 
resources  of  her  American  colonies  still  remained  un- 
touched ; her  people  had  been  roused  to  new  energy  by 
their  exertions  in  defence  of  their  homes;  and  their 


Chap.  I.] 


PHILIP  THE  FIFTH. 


215 


ancient  loyalty  had  been,  to  an  extraordinary  degree, 
concentrated  on  a young  and  adventurous  prince,  who, 
though  himself  a foreigner,  stood  before  them  as  their 
defender  against  foreign  invasion.  It  seemed,  therefore, 
as  if  still  there  were  life  in  Spain,  and  as  if  something 
remamed  of  the  old  national  character,  on  which  to 
build  a new  culture.^ 

That  Philip  the  Fifth  should  desire  to  restore  the 
intellectual  dignity  of  the  country,  that  had  so  gener- 
ously adopted  him,  was  natural.  But  while  the  war 
lasted,  it  demanded  all  the  care  of  his  government ; and 
when  it  was  over,  and  he  turned  himself  to  the  task,  it 
was  plain  that,  in  his  personal  relations  and  dispositions, 
he  was  but  imperfectly  fitted  for  it.  Notwithstanding 
the  sincerest  efibrts  to  assimilate  himself  to  the  people 
he  governed,  he  was  still  a foreigner,  little  acquainted 
with  their  condition,  and  unable  to  sympathize  with 
their  peculiar  nationality.  He  had  been  educated  at 
the  court  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth;  the  most  brilliant 
court  in  Europe,  and  that  in  which,  more  than  in  any 
other,  letters  were  regarded  as  a part  of  the  pageant  of 
empire.  His  character  was  not  strongly  marked ; and 
he  expressed  no  decided  love  for  any  definite  form 
of  intellectual  cultivation,  though  he  had  good  taste 
enough  to  enjoy  the  elegance  to  which  he  had  always 
been  accustomed,  and  which  had  been  an  important  part 
of  his  breeding.  He  was,  in  fact,  a Frenchman ; and  never 
could  forget,  — what  his  grandfather  had  unwisely  told 
him  always  to  remember,  — that  he  was  such.  When, 
therefore,  he  desfied  to  encourage  elegant  literature,  it 
was  natural  that  he  should  first  recur  to  the  means  by 

1 Lord  Mahon’s  excellent  “ History  reader,  as  to  the  effect  of  that  war  on 
of  the  War  of  the  Succession  in  Spain”  the  Spanish  character,  that  is  left  bv 
(London,  1832,  8vo)  leaves  the  same  the  contemporary  accounts  of  it.  It 
general  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  is,  no  doubt,  the  true  one. 


216 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


which  he  had  seen  it  encouraged  where,  more  than  in 
any  other  country,  it  had  been  successfully  fostered  by 
royal  patronage ; and  if,  in  some  respects,  his  position 
was  little  favorable  to  such  a use  of  his  power,  in  one, 
at  least,  it  was  eminently  fortunate ; for  the  earlier  liter- 
ature of  Spain  had  so  nearly  disappeared,  that  it  could 
offer  little  resistance  to  any  attempt  that  might  be 
made  to  introduce  new  forms  or  to  infuse  a new  char- 
acter into  the  old. 

At  this  moment,  the  idea  of  patronizing  and  control- 
ling the  literature  of  a country  by  academies,  establish- 
ed under  the  authority  of  its  government,  and  composed 
of  the  principal  men  of  letters  of  the  time,  was  gener- 
ally favored ; — the  French  Academy,  founded  by  Car- 
dinal Richelieu,  and  always  the  model  of  its  class,  being 
now  at  the  height  of  its  success  and  fame.  To  estab- 
lish a Spanish  Academy,  which  should  have  similar  ob- 
jects and  reach  similar  results,  was,  therefore,  naturally 
the  great  literary  project  of  the  reign  of  Philip  the 
Fifth.^  Probably  the  king  himself  had  early  entertained 
it.  Certainly  it  was  formally  brought  to  his  notice,  in 
1713,  by  the  Marquis  of  Villena,  a nobleman,  who, 
amidst  the  cares  of  five  successive  viceroyalties,  had 
found  leisure  to  devote  himself,  not  only  to  letters,  but 
to  some  of  the  more  severe  branches  of  the  physical  and 
exact  sciences.  His  first  purpose  seems  to  have  been, 
to  form  an  academy  whose  empire  should  extend,  on 
all  sides,  to  the  limits  of  human  knowledge,  and  whose 
subdivisions  should  be  substantially  made  according  to 
the  system  of  Lord  Bacon.  This,  however,  was  soon 
abandoned  as  too  vast  an  undertaking ; and  it  was  deter- 

2 The  Royal  Library,  now  the  founded  in  1711 ; but  for  several  years 
National  Library,  at  Madrid,  which  it  was  an  institution  of  little  impor- 
was  strictly  the  earliest  literary  pro-  tance.  El  Bibliotecario  y el  Trova- 
ject  of  the  reign  of  Philip  V.,  was  dor,  Madrid,  1841,  folio,  p.  3. 


Chap.  I.]  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  ACADEMY.  ^ 217 

mined  to  begin  by  confining  the  duties  of  the  new  asso- 
ciation principally  to  “ the  cultivation  and  establishment 
of  the  purity  of  the  Castilian  language.”  An  Academy 
for  this  object  went  into  operation,  by  virtue  of  a royal 
decree  dated  the  3d  of  November,  1714.^ 

As  it  was  modelled  almost  exactly  after  the  form  of 
the  French  Academy,  the  first  project  of  its  members 
was  that  of  making  a Dictionary.  The  work  was  much 
needed.  From  the  time  of  Fernando  de  Flerrera  the 
language  had  not  received  large  additions,  but  it  had 
received  some  that  were  of  value.  Mendoza  and  Colo- 
ma  had  introduced  a few  military  terms,  that  have  since 
passed  into  common  use;  and  both  of  them,  with  Er- 
cilla,  Urrea,  and  many  others,  had  been  so  familiar  with 
the  Italian,  as  to  seize  some  of  its  wealth  for  their  own. 
Cervantes,  however,  had,  perhaps,  done  more  than  any 
body  else.  That  he  was  insensible  neither  to  the  dan- 
ger of  a too  free  intermixture  of  foreign  words,  nor  to 
the  true  principles  that  should  govern  their  introduc- 
tion when  needed,  he  has  shown  in  the  conversations 
of  Don  Quixote  with  the  printers  at  Barcelona,  and 
with  Sancho  at  the  Duke’s  castle ; but  still  he  felt  the 
rights  of  genius  within  him,  and  exercised  them  in  this 
respect  as  boldly  as  he  did  in  most  others.  His  new 
compounds,  his  Latinisms,  his  restoration  of  old  and  neg- 
lected phrases,  and  his  occasional  recourse  to  the  Ital- 
ian, have  all  been  noted ; and,  in  nearly  every  instance, 
the  words  he  adopted  now  enter  into  the  recognized 
vocabulary  of  the  language.  Other  writers  ventured 
in  the  same  direction,  with  less  success ; but  still,  from 
the  glossaries  added  to  the  poems  of  Blasco  in  1584, 

3 “ Historia  de  la  Academia,”  in  1726,  folio.  Sempere  y Guarinos, 
the  Preface  to  the  “ Diccionario  de  la  Biblioteca,  1785,  Discurso  Prelimi- 
Lengua  Castellana,  por  la  Real  Aca-  nar,  and  Tom.  I.  p.  55. 
demia  Espanola,”  Madrid,  Tom.  I. 

VOL.  III.  28  S 


218  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

and  of  Lopez  Pinciano  in  1605,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  many  words,  which  were  then  thought  to  need 
explanation,  have  long  since  become  familiar,  and  that 
the  old  Castilian  stock,  during  the  reigns  of  Philip  the 
Second  and  Philip  the  Third,  was  receiving  additions, 
which  ought,  in  some  way,  to  be  recognized  as  an  im- 
portant part  of  its  permanent  resources.^ 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  during  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, the  old  language  had  been  much  abused.  From 
the  appearance  of  Gongora  no  proper  regard  had  been 
paid  to  the  preservation  of  its  purity  or  of  its  original 
characteristics,  by  many  of  the  most  popular  authors  that 
employed  it.  The  Latiniparla,  as  Quevedo  called  the 
affectation  of  his  time,  had  brought  in  many  Latin 
words  and  many  strange  phrases,  wholly  repugnant  to 
the  genius  of  the  Spanish.  Such  words  and  construc- 
tions, too,  had  enjoyed  much  favor;  and  Lope  de  Vega, 
Calderon,  and  the  other  leading  spirits,  who  pronounced 
them  to  be  affectations  and  refused  directly  to  coun- 
tenance them,  yet  occasionally  yielded  to  the  fashion 
of  their  time,  in  order  to  obtain  the  applause  which  was 
sure  to  follow.® 


4 Garces,  Vigor  y Elegancia  de  la 
Lengua  Castellana,  Madrid,  1791,  2 
tom.  8vo,  Prologo  to  each  volume. 
Mendoza  used  reluctantly  such  words 
as  centinela,  and  Coloma  introduced 
dique,  etc.,  from  his  Dutch  experi- 
ence. Navarrete  (Vida  de  Cervan- 
tes, pp.  163  - 169)  and  Garces  (loc. 
cit.)  show  the  value  of  what  Cervan- 
tes did,  and  Clemencin  (ed.  D.  Quix- 
ote, Tom.  V.  pp.  99,  292,  and  357) 
gives  a list  of  the  Latin,  Italian,  and 
other  words  used  by  Cervantes,  but 
not  always  naturalized,  on  which,  in 
various  notes  elsewhere,  he  seems  to 
look  with  less  favor  than  Garces  does. 
Quite  as  curious  as  either  are  the 
words,  which  Blasco  (Universal  Re- 
dencion,  1584)  and  Lopez  Pinciano 
(El  Pelayo,  1605)  thought  it  neces- 


sary to  put  into  vocabularies  at  the 
end  of  their  respective  poems,  and  to 
define  for  their  readers,  among  which 
are  fatal,  natal,  fugaz,  gruta,  ahando- 
nar,  adular,  anhelo,  aplauso,  arrojarse, 
assedio,  etc.,  — all  now  familiar  Cas- 
tilian. 

5 It  is  impossible  to  open  the  works 
of  Count  Villamediana,  and  the  other 
followers  of  Gongora,  without  finding 
proofs  of  their  willingness  to  change 
the  language  of  Spanish  literature  ; 
but  there  is  a small  and  very  imperfect 
list  of  the  words  and  phrases  these  in- 
novators favored,  to  be  found  in  the 
“ Declamacion  contra  los  Abusos  de 
la  Lengua  Castellana,”  by  Vargas  y 
Ponce,  p.  150,  which  will  at  once  il- 
lustrate their  general  purpose. 


Chap.  I.]  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  ACADEMY.  219 

Both  to  receive  the  words  that  had  been  rightfully 
naturalized  in  the  language,  and  to  place  a mark  of 
disapprobation  on  those  that  were  unworthy  to  be 
adopted,  a Dictionary  resting  on  authority  was  wanted. 
None  such  had  been  attempted  in  Spain.  Indeed,  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  the  preceding  century,  only  one  Span- 
ish Dictionary  of  any  kind  had  been  produced  that 
received,  or  deserved,  the  notice  of  the  Academy.  This 
was  the  work  of  Covarrubias,  whose  “ Tesoro,”  first 
printed  in  1611,  is  a curious  book,  full  of  learning,  and, 
in  the  etymological  part,  valuable,  but  often  conceited, 
and  rarely  showing  philosophical  acuteness  in  its  defi- 
nitions.® The  new  Academy,  therefore,  could  obtain 
little  help  from  the  labors  of  their  predecessors,  and,  for 
such  as  was  worth  having,  were  obliged  to  go  back  to 
Lebrixa  and  his  editors.  But  they  were  in  earnest. 
They  labored  diligently,  and  between  1726  and  1739 
produced  their  grand  work,  in  six  folio  volumes.  On 
the  whole,  it  did  them  honor.  No  doubt,  it  shows,  in 
several  parts,  a want  of  mature  consideration  and  good 
judgment.  Many  words  were  omitted,  that  should  have 
been  inserted;  many  were  inserted,  which  were  after- 
wards stricken  out;  and  many  were  given  on  unsatis- 
factory authorities.  But  its  definitions  are  generally 
good;  its  etymologies  — though  this  part  of  the  work 
was  little  regarded  by  its  authors  — are  respectable;  and 
its  citations  are  ample  and  pertinent.  In  fact,  all  that 
had  been  done  for  the  language,  in  the  way  of  diction- 
aries, since  its  origin,  was  not  equal  to  what  was  now 
done  in  this  single  work. 

But  the  Academicians  were  not  slow  to  perceive,  that 


6 There  is  an  edition  of  the  Tesoro  of  better  and  ampler  than  the  original 
Covarrubias,  by  Benito  Remigio  Noy-  work, 
dens,  (Madrid,  1674,  folio,)  which  is 


220  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

a Dictionary  so  large  could  exercise  little  popular  in- 
fluence. They  began,  therefore,  soon  afterwards,  to 
prepare  an  abridgment,  in  a single  folio  volume,  for 
more  general  use,  and  published  the  first  edition  of  it 
in  1780.  The  project  was  judicious,  and  its  execution 
skilful.  It  omitted  the  discussions,  citations,  and  for- 
mal etymologies  of  the  larger  work ; but  it  established 
a better  vocabulary,  and  improved  many  of  the  old  defi- 
nitions. It  had,  therefore,  from  its  first  appearance,  a 
decided  authority ; and,  by  the  persevering  labors  of  the 
Academy,  has  continued,  in  its  successive  editions,  to  be 
the  proper  standard  of  the  language,  — labors  which, 
since  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  have 
been  always  heavy,  and  sometimes  disagreeable,  from 
the  constant  tendency  of  even  the  better  writers,  like 
Melendez  and  his  school,  to  fall  into  Gallicisms,  which 
the  increasing  intercourse  with  France  had  rendered 
fashionable  in  the  society  of  their  time. 

Another  difficulty,  however,  soon  presented  itself  to 
the  Academy,  quite  as  serious  as  the  size  of  their  Dic- 
tionary. It  was  that  of  the  orthography  they  had 
adopted.  The  spelling  of  the  Castilian  — partly,  per- 
haps, from  the  very  various  elements  of  which  it  was 
composed,  and  partly  from  the  popular  character  of  its 
literature  — had  always  been  more  unsettled  than  that 
of  the  other  modern  languages.  Lebrixa,  the  great 
scholar  of  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  first 
attempted  to  reduce  it  to  order,  and  the  simplicity  of 
his  system,  which  appeared  in  1517,  seemed  at  first 
likely  to  secure  general  favor  and  acceptance.  But  thir- 
ty treatises,  that  at  different  times  followed,  had  — with 
the  exception  of  the  acute  and  pleasant  one  printed 
by  Aleman  when  he  was  in  Mexico,  m 1609 — served 


Chap.  I.]  OTHER  LABORS  OF  THE  ACADEMY.  221 

rather  to  unsettle  and  confuse  the  whole  matter,  than 
to  determine  any  thing  in  relation  to  it.^ 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the  first  attempt 
of  the  Academy,  made  in  the  form  of  a short  discourse, 
prefixed  to  its  larger  Dictionary,  produced  little  effect. 
A separate  work,  which  appeared  in  1742,  did  some- 
thing more,  but  not  much ; and  the  successive  editions 
of  it  which  were  called  for  by  the  public  rather  showed 
the  uneasy  state  of  opinion  in  relation  to  the  points 
under  discussion,  than  any  thing  else.  At  last,  in  1815, 
the  Academy,  in  the  eighth  recension  of  its  treatise  on 
Orthography,  and  in  1817,  in  the  fifth  of  its  smaller 
Dictionary,  began  a series  of  important  changes,  which 
have  been  generally  adopted  by  subsequent  writers  of 
authority,  and  appear  to  have  nearly  settled  the  spelling 
of  the  Castilian,  though  still  it  seems  open  to  a few 
further  modifications,  and  even  to  invite  them.® 

A Grammar,  like  a Dictionary,  was  provided  for  in 


The  “ Ortografia  de  la  Lengua 
Castellana”  (Mexico,  1609,4to,fF.  83) 
is  a pleasant  and  important  treatise, 
which,  as  the  novelist  intimates,  he 
began  to  write  in  Castile  and  finished 
in  Mexico.  It  proposes  to  reverse  the 
letter  o in  order  to  express  the  soft  ch 
as  in  mucho,  to  be  printed  mujo  ; uses 
two  forms  of  the  letter  r ; writes  the 
conjunction  y always  i,  as  Salva  now 
insists  it  should  be ; and  claims  y , ll, 
and  n to  be  separate  letters,  as  they 
have  long  been  admitted  to  be. 

In  speaking  of  Aleman,  I am  remind- 
ed of  his  “San  Antonio  de  Padua,” 
printed  in  12mo,  at  Valencia,  in  1607, 
if.  309.  It  belongs  to  the  same  class 
of  books  with  the  “ San  Patricio  ” of 
Montalvan,  (see,  ante,  Vol.  II.  p.  298,) 
but  is  more  elaborate  and  more  devout. 
The  number  of  the  Saint’s  miracles 
that  it  records  is  very  great.  Wheth- 
er he  invented  any  of  them  for  the  oc- 
casion, I do  not  know ; but  they  some- 
times read  as  much  like  novelas  as 
some  of  his  stories  in  the  “ Guzman  ” 


do,  and  are  always  written  in  the  same 
idiomatic  and  unadulterated  Castilian. 
It  is  introduced  by  a cancion  in  honor 
of  it  by  Lope  de  Vega ; but  I cannot 
find  that  it  was  ever  reprinted ; — why, 
it  is  difficult  to  say,  for  it  is  an  uncom- 
monly attractive  book  of  its  class. 

8 The  difficulties  in  Castilian  or- 
thography are  set  forth  in  the  “ Di- 
alogo  de  las  Lenguas  ” (Mayans  y 
Siscar,  Origenes,  Tom.  II.  pp.  47  - 
65)  ; but  the  ingenious  author  of  that 
discussion  is  more  severe  than  was 
necessary  on  Lebrixa.  An  anony- 
mous writer  of  an  excellent  essay  on 
the  same  subject,  in  the  first  volume  of 
the  Repertorio  Americano,  (Tom.  I.  p. 
27,)  is  a great  deal  more  judicious. 
But  how  unsettled  much  still  remains 
in  practice  may  be  seen  in  the  “ Manu- 
al del  Cajista,  por  Jose  Maria  Pala- 
cios,” Madrid,  1845,  18mo,  where 
(pp.  134-154)  is  a “ Prontuario  de 
las  Voces  de  dudosa  Ortografia,”  con- 
taining above  1800  words. 


S* 


222 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


the  statutes  of  the  Academy.  But  the  original  mem- 
bers of  that  body,  few  of  whom  were  men  of  note  and 
authority,  showed  a marked  unwillingness  to  approach 
the  difficult  discussions  involved  in  such  a work,  and 
did  not  undertake  them  at  all  till  1740.  Even  then, 
they  went  on  slowly  and  with  anxiety ; so  that  the 
result  of  their  labors  did  not  appear  till  1771.  For 
this  delay  they  were  not  whoUy  in  fault.  They  had 
little  to  guide  them,  except  the  rival  Grammars  of 
Gayoso  and  San  Pedro,  which  were  published  while  the 
Academy  was  preparing  its  own,  and  the  original  at- 
tempt of  Lebrixa,  which  had  long  been  forgotten.  But, 
after  so  protracted  a labor,  the  Academicians  should 
have  produced  something  more  worthy  of  their  claims ; 
for  what  they  gave  to  the  world,  at  last,  was  an  unphilo- 
sophical  and  unpractical  work,  which,  though  subjected 
to  frequent  revision  since,  is  hardly  an  outline  of  what  it 
ought  to  be,  and  quite  inferior  to  the  Grammar  of  Salva.® 
A History  of  the  Castilian  Language,  and  an  Art  of 
Poetry,  which  were  also  expressly  prescribed  by  the 
statutes  of  the  Academy,  have  never  been  prepared  un- 
der their  authority;  but,  instead  of  these  tasks,  they 
have  sometimes  performed  duties  not  originally  imposed 
upon  them.  Thus  they  have  published  careful  editions 


9 Of  Lebrixa’s  Grammar  I have  al- 
ready spoken,  (Vol.  I.  p.  549,)  and 
the  memory  of  it  was  now  so  much  re- 
vived that  a counterfeit  edition  of  it 
was  published,  about  1775,  in  small 
folio,  hardly,  I should  judge  from  its 
appearance,  with  the  intention  of  de- 
ceiving. But  such  things  were  not 
uncommon  about  that  time,  as  Mendez 
says,  who  thinks  the  edition  in  ques- 
tion had  been  printed  about  twenty 
years  when  he  published  his  work  in 
1796.  (See  Typog.,  p.  242.)  It  is, 
however,  already  so  rare,  that  I ob- 
tained a copy  of  it  with  difficulty. 

That  of  Gayoso  was  first  printed  at 


Madrid,  in  1745,  12mo,  and  that  of 
San  Pedro  in  Valencia,  1769,  12mo, 
which  last  Gayoso,  disguising  himself 
under  a sort  of  anagram,  attacked,  in 
his  “ Conversaciones  Criticas,  por  Don 
Antonio  Gobeyos,”  (Madrid,  1780, 
12mo,)  where  he  shows  that  San  Pe- 
dro was  not  so  original  as  he  ought  to 
have  been,  but  treats  his  Grammar  with 
more  harshness  than  it  deserved.  Sal- 
va’s  “ Gramatica  de  la  Lengua  Cas- 
te! lana  como  ahora  se  halla  ” was  first 
printed  in  1831,  and  the  sixth  edition 
appeared  at  Madrid  in  1844,  12mo  ; a 
striking  proof  of  the  want  of  such  a 
book. 


Chap.  I.] 


OTHER  ACADEMIES. 


223 


of  different  works  of  recognized  authority,  particularly  a 
magnificent  one  of  “Don  Quixote,”  in  1780-84.  Since 
1777,  they  have,  from  time  to  time,  offered  prizes  for 
poetical  compositions,  though,  as  is  usual  m such  cases, 
■with  less  important  results  than  had  been  hoped.  And 
occasionally  they  have  prmted,  with  funds  granted  to 
them  by  the  government,  works  deemed  of  sufiicient 
merit  to  deserve  such  patronage,  and,  among  others,  the 
excellent  treatise  of  Garces  on  “ The  Vigor  and  Beauty 
of  the  Spanish  Language,”  which  appeared  under  their 
auspices  in  1791.^°  During  the  whole  century,  there- 
fore, the  Spanish  Academy,  occupied  in  these  various 
ways,  continued  to  be  a useful  institution,  carefully  ab- 
staining from  such  claims  to  control  the  public  taste  as 
were  at  first  made  by  its  model  in  France,  and,  though 
not  always  very  active  and  efdcient,  still  never  deserving 
the  reproach  of  neglecting  the  duties  and  tasks  for 
which  it  was  originally  instituted. 

One  good  effect  that  followed  from  the  foundation  of 
the  Spanish  Academy  was  the  establishment  of  other 
academies  for  kindred  purposes.  These  academies  were 
entirely  different  from  the  social  meetings,  under  the 
same  name,  that  were  imitated  from  the  Italian  acade- 
mies in  the  time  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  — one  of  the  ear- 
liest of  which  was  held  in  the  house  of  Cortes,*^  the 
conqueror  of  Mexico ; — though  still  the  elder  associa- 
tions seem  sometimes  to  have  furnished  materials,  out 
of  which  the  institutions  that  succeeded  them  were  con- 
structed. At  least,  this  was  the  case  with  the  Acade- 

Gregorio  Garces,  whose  “ Fun-  which  he  returned  home  in  1798, 
damento  del  Vigor  y Elegancia  de  under  the  decree  of  Charles  IV. 
la  Lengua  Castellana  ” was  printed  abrogating  that  of  his  father  for  the 
at  Madrid,  1791,  2 tom.  8vo,  was  a expulsion  of  the  Order  from  Spain, 
Jesuit,  and  prepared  this  excellent  in  1767. 

work  in  exile  at  Ferrara,  in  which  city  n See,  ante,  Part  II.  c.  5,  and 

he  lived  above  thirty  years,  and  from  note,  Vol.  I.  p.  537. 


224  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

my  of  Barcelona,  which  has  rendered  good  service  to 
the  cause  of  letters  since  1751,  after  having  long  exist- 
ed as  an  idle  affectation,  under  the  title  of  the  “ Acade- 
my of  the  Diffident.”  The  only  one,  however,  of  any 
consequence  to  the  general  literature  of  the  country, 
was  established  during  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  — 
the  Academy  for  Spanish  History,  founded  in  1738; 
the  character  and  amount  of  whose  labors,  both  pub- 
lished and  unpublished,  do  its  members  much  honor.^^ 

But  such  associations  everywhere,  though  they  may 
be  useful  and  even  important  in  their  proper  relations, 
can  neither  create  a new  literature  for  a country,  nor, 
where  the  old  literature  is  seriously  decayed,  do  much 
to  revive  it.  The  Spanish  academies  were  no  exceptions 
to  this  remark.  All  elegant  culture  had  so  nearly  disap- 
peared before  the  accession  of  the  Bourbons,  and  there 
was  such  an  insensibility  to  its  value  in  those  classes  of 
society  where  it  should  have  been  most  cherished,  that 
it  was  plain  the  resuscitation  must  be  the  work  of  time, 
and  that  the  land  must  long  lie  fallow  before  another 
harvest  could  be  gathered  in.  During  the  entire  reign 
of  Philip  the  Fifth,  therefore,  — a reign  which,  includ- 
ing the  few  months  of  his  nominal  abdication  in  favor 
of  his  son,  extends  to  forty-six  years,  — we  shall  find 
undeniable  traces  of  this  unhappy  state  of  things ; few 
authors  appearing  who  deserve  to  be  named  at  all,  and 
still  fewer  who  demand  a careful  notice. 

Poetry,  indeed,  or  what  passed  under  that  name,  con- 
tinued to  be  written ; and  some  of  it,  though  little  en- 


For  an  account  of  these  Acade- 
mies, see  Guarinos,  “ Biblioteca  ” ; 
and  for  a notice  of  the  origin  of  the 
Royal  Academy  of  History,  see  the 
first  volume  of  its  Memoirs.  The  old 
Academias,  in  imitation  of  the  Italian, 
— such  as  are  ridiculed  in  the  “Di- 


ablo Cojuelo,”  Tranco  IX.,  — had 
much  gone  out  of  fashion  and  been 
displaced  by  the  modern  Tertulias, 
where  both  sexes  meet,  and  which  in 
their  turn  have  been  ridiculed  in  the 
Saijnetes  of  Ramon  de  la  Cruz  and 
Castillo. 


Chap.  I.]  POETRi"  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PHILIP  THE  FIFTH.  225 

couraged  by  the  general  regard  of  the  nation,  was  print- 
ed. Moraes,  a Portuguese  gentleman  of  rank,  who  had 
lived  in  Spain  from  his  youth,  wrote  two  heroic  poems 
in  Spanish;  the  first  on  the  discovery  of  “The  New 
World,”  which  he  published  in  1701,  and  the  other  on 
the  foundation  of  the  kingdom  of  Portugal,  which  was 
printed  in  1712;  both  appearing  originally  in  an  unfin- 
ished state,  in  consequence  of  the  author’s  impatience 
for  fame,  and  the  earlier  of  them  still  remaining  so. 
But  they  have  been  long  forgotten.  Indeed,  the  first, 
which  is  full  of  extravagant  allegories,  soon  found  the 
fate  which  its  author  felt  it  deserved;  and  the  other, 
though  written  with  great  deference  for  the  rules  of  art, 
and  more  than  once  reprinted,  has  not  at  last  enjoyed  a 
better  fortune. 

The  most  amusmg  work  of  Moraes  is  a prose  satire, 
printed  in  1734,  called  “The  Caves  of  Salamanca,” 
where,  m certain  grottos,  which  a popular  tradition 
supposed  to  exist,  sealed  up  by  magic,  Avithin  the  banks 
of  the  Tormes,  he  finds  Amadis  of  Gaul,  Oriana,  and 
Celestina,  and  discourses  Avith  them  and  other  fanciful 
personages  on  such  subjects  as  his  humor  happens  to 
suggest.  Parts  of  it  are  A’ery  AA'ild ; parts  of  it  are  both 
amusing  and  wise,  especially  Avhat  is  said  about  the 
Spanish  language  and  academies,  and  about  the  “ Tele- 
machus”  of  Fenelon,  then  at  the  height  of  its  fame. 
The  AA'hole  shows  few  of  the  affectations  of  style  that 
still  deformed  and  degraded  AA'hatever  there  Avas  of  liter- 
ature in  the  country,  and  Avhich,  though  ridiculed  in 
“ The  CaA'es  of  Salamanca,”  are  abundant  in  the  other 
Avorks  of  the  same  author. 

13  There  is  an  edition  of  the  “ Nu-  tion  to  fill  up.  Of  the  “Alfonso,  6 
evo  Alundo,'’  printed  at  Barcelona,  la  Fundacion  del  Reyno  de  Portugal,” 
1701.  4to,  containing  many  blanks,  there  are  editions  of  1712,  1716,  1731, 
which  the  author  announces  his  inten-  and  1737.  There  is  a notice  of  the 

VOL.  III.  29 


226 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI, 


A long  heroic  poem,  in  Iayo  parts,  in  honor  of  the 
conquest  of  Peru  by  the  Pizarros,  was  printed  at  Li- 
ma in  1732.  It  is  founded  principally  on  the  prose 
History  of  the  Inca  Garcilasso,  hut  is  rarely  so  interest- 
ing as  the  gossip  out  of  which  it  was  constructed.  The 
author,  Pedro  de  Barnuevo,  was  an  officer  of  the  Span- 
ish government  in  South  America ; and  he  gives  in  the 
Preface  a long  list  of  his  works,  published  and  unpub- 
lished. He  was,  undoubtedly,  a man  of  learning,  but 
not  a poet.  Like  Moraes,  he  has  arranged  a mystical 
interpretation  to  his  story;  some  parts  of  Avhich,  such 
as  that  where  America  comes  before  God,  and  prays  to 
be  conquered  that  she  may  be  converted,  are  really  alle- 
gorical ; while,  in  general,  the  interpretation  he  gives 
is  merely  an  after-thought,  forced  and  unnatural.  But 
his  Avork  is  dull  and  in  bad  taste,  and  the  octave  stan- 
zas in  Avhich  it  is  Avritten  are  managed  with  less  skill 
than  usual.^^ 

ScA^eral  religious  poems  belong  to  the  same  period. 
One  by  Pedro  de  Beynosa,  printed  in  1727,  is  on  “San- 
ta Casilda,”  the  converted  daughter  of  a Moorish  king 
of  Toledo,  Avho  figures  in  the  history  of  Spain  during 
the  eleventh  century.  Another,  called  “ The  Eloquence 
of  Silence,”  by  Miguel  de  Zevallos,  in  1738,  is  devoted 
to  the  honor  of  Saint  John  of  Nepomuck,  who,  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  was  throAvn  into  the  Moldau,  by  or- 
der of  a king  of  Bohemia,  because  the  holy  man  would 

author  — Francisco  Botelho  Moraes  retired  in  his  old  age.  He  published 
e Vasconcellos  — in  Barbosa,  (Tom.  one  or  two  works  in  Spanish,  besides 
II.  p.  119,)  and  at  the  end  of  the  edi-  those  already  mentioned,  and  one  or 
tion  of  the  Alfonso,  Salamanca,  1731,  two  in  Latin,  but  no  others  of  conse- 
4to,  is  a defence  of  a few  peculiarities  quence. 
in  its  orthography.  “ Las  Cuevas  de  I'*  u 

Salamanca”  (s.  1.  1734)  is  a small  de  Don  Pedro  de  Peralta  Barnuevo,” 
volume,  divided  into  seven  books,  Lima,  1732, 4to,  about  700  pages ; but 
written,  perhaps,  at  Salamanca  itself,  so  ill  paged  that  it  is  not  easy  to  de- 
which  Moraes  loved,  and  where  he  termine. 


Chap.  I.]  POETRY  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PHILIP  THE  FIFTH.  227 

not  reveal  to  the  jealous  monarch  what  the  queen  had  in- 
trusted to  him  under  the  seal  of  the  confessional.  Both 
are  in  the  octave  stanzas  common  to  such  poems,  and 
are  full  of  the  faults  of  their  times.  Two  mock-heroic 
poems,  that  naturally  followed  such  attempts,  are  not 
better  than  the  serious  poems  which  provoked  them.'^ 
No  account  more  favorable  can  he  given  of  the  lyric 
and  miscellaneous  poetry  of  the  period,  than  of  the  nar- 
rative. The  best  that  appeared,  or  at  least  what  was 
thought  to  be  the  best  at  the  time,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
poetical  works  of  Eugenio  Lobo,  first  printed  in  1738. 
He  was  a soldier,  who  wrote  verses  only  for  his  amuse- 
ment ; but  his  friends,  who  admired  them  much  beyond 
their  merit,  printed  portions  of  them,  from  time  to  time, 
until,  at  last,  he  himself  thought  it  better  to  permit  a 
religious  congregation  to  publish  the  whole  in  a volume. 
They  are  very  various  in  form,  from  fragments  of  two 
epics  do^vn  to  sonnets,  and  equally  various  in  tone, 
from  that  appropriate  to  religious  villmicicos  to  that  of 
the  freest  satire.  But  they  are  in  very  bad  taste ; and,  if 
any  thing  like  poetry  appears  in  them,  it  is  at  rare  in- 
tervals. Benegasi  y Luxan,  who,  in  1743,  published  a 
volume  of  such  light  verses  as  were  called  for  by  the 
gay  society  in  which  he  lived,  wrote  in  a simpler  style 
than  Lobo,  though,  on  the  whole,  he  succeeded  no  bet- 


“ Santa  Casilda,  Poema  en  Octa- 
vas  Reales,  por  el  R.  P.  Fr.  Pedro  de 
Reynosa,”  Madrid,  1727,  4to.  It  is 
in  seven  cantos,  and  each  canto  has  a 
sort  of  codicil  to  it,  affectedly  called  a 
Contrajpunto . — “ La  Eloquencia  del 
Silencio,  Poema  Herdico,  por  Miguel 
de  la  Reyna  Zevallos,”  Madrid,  1738, 
4to.  Of  the  mock-heroic  poems  men- 
tioned in  the  text,  one  is  “ La  Proserpi- 
na, Poema  Heroico,  por  D.  Pedro  Sil- 
vestre,”  Madrid,  1721,  4to,  — twelve 
mortal  cantos.  The  other  is  “ La  Bur- 


romaquia,”  which  is  better,  but  still 
not  amusing.  It  is  unfinished,  and  is 
found  in  the  “ Obras  Postumas  de  Ga- 
briel Alvarez  de  Toledo.”  The  di- 
visions are  not  called  “ Cantos,”  hut 
“ Braxjings.'"  I have  seen  very  ridic- 
ulous extracts  from  a poem  by  Father 
Butron  on  Santa  Teresa,  printed  in 
1722,  and  from  one  on  St.  Jerome,  by 
P.  M.  Lara,  1726,  but  I have  never 
happened  to  fall  in  with  the  poems 
themselves,  which  seem  to  be  as  bad 
as  any  of  their  class. 


228 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III 


ter.  But,  except  these  two,  and  a few  who  imitated 
them,  such  as  Alvarez  de  Toledo  and  Antonio  Munoz, 
we  have  nothing  from  the  reign  of  the  first  of  the  Bour- 
bons, that  can  claim  notice  in  either  of  the  forms  of  po- 
etry we  have  thus  far  examined.^® 

More  characteristic  than  either,  however,  were  two 
collections  of  verse,  written,  as  their  titles  profess,  by  the 
poets  of  most  note  at  the  time,  in  honor  of  the  king 
and  queen,  who,  in  1722,  meeting  the  Host,  as  it  was 
passing  to  a dying  man,  gave  their  own  carriage  to  the 
priest  who  bore  it,  and  then,  according  to  the  fashion 
of  the  country,  followed  reverently  on  foot.  The  names 
of  Zamora  the  dramatist,  of  Diego  de  Torres,  well 
known  for  his  various  accomplishments  in  science  and 
letters,  and  of  a few  other  poets,  who  are  still  remem- 
bered, occur  in  the  first  collection;  but,  in  general, 
the  obscurity  of  the  authors  who  contributed  to  it  is 
such  as  we  might  anticipate  from  reading  their  poetry ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  occasion  of  the  whole  shows 
how  low  was  the  culture  which  could  attribute  any 
value  to  such  publications.^^ 

A single  bright  spot  in  the  poetical  history  of  this 
period  is  only  the  more  remarkable  from  the  gloom  that 
surrounds  it.  It  is  a satire  attributed  to  Herbas,  a 
person  otherwise  unknown,  who  disguised  himself  un- 


is “ Obras  Poeticas  Lyrieas,  por  el 
Coronel  D.  Eugenio  Gerardo  Lobo,” 
Madrid,  1738,  4to.  — “ Poesias  Lyri- 
cas,  y Joco-Serias,  su  Autor  D.  Jo- 
seph Joachim  Benegasi  y Luxan,” 
Madrid,  1743,  4to.  — Gab.  Alvarez  de 
Toledo,  ut  ante.  — Antonio  Munoz, 
“ Aventuras  en  Verso  y en  Prossa,” 
{sic,)  no  date,  but  licensed  1739. 

11  “ Sagradas,  Flores  del  Parnaso, 
Consonancias  Metricas  de  la  bien  Tera- 
plada  Lyra  de  Apolo,  que  a la  reve- 
rente  Catolica  Accion  de  haver  ido  ac- 


compafiando  sus  Magestades  el  Ssmo 
Sacramento  que  iba  a Darse  por  via- 
tico  a una  Enferma  el  Dia  28  de  No- 
vembre,  1722,  cantaron  los  mejores 
Cisnes  de  Espaiia,’’  4to.  I give  the 
title  of  the  first  collection  in  full,  as 
an  indication  of  the  bad  taste  of  its 
contents.  Both  collections,  taken  to- 
gether, make  about  200  pages,  and 
contain  poems  by  about  fifty  authors, 
generally  in  the  worst  and  most  af- 
fected style, — the  very  dregs  of  Gon- 
gorism. 


Chap.  I.]  POETRY  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PHILIP  THE  FIFTH.  229 

der  the  name  of  Jorge  de  Pitillas,  and  printed  it  in  a lit- 
erary journal.  It  was  singularly  successful  for  the  time 
when  it  appeared;  a circumstance  the  more  to  be  no- 
ticed, as  this  success  seems  not  to  have  inspired  any  sim- 
ilar attempt,  or  even  to  have  encouraged  the  author  to 
venture  agam  before  the  public.  The  subject  he  chose 
was  fortunate,  — the  bad  writers  of  his  age,  — and  in 
discussing  it  he  has  spoken  out  boldly  and  manfully; 
sometimes  calling  by  name  those  whom  he  ridicules, 
and  at  other  times  indicating  them  so  that  they  cannot 
be  mistaken.  His  chief  merits  are  the  ease  and  simpli- 
city of  his  style,  the  pungency  and  justness  of  his  satire, 
and  his  agreeable  imitations  of  the  old  masters,  espe- 
cially Persius  and  Juvenal,  whom  he  further  resembled 
in  the  commendable  qualities  of  brevity  and  senten- 
tiousness.’^ 


18  The  “ Satira  contra  los  Males 
Escritores  de  su  Tiempo  ” is  com- 
monly attributed  to  Jose  Gerardo  de 
Herbas ; but  Tapia  (Civilisacion, 
Tom.  IV.  p.  266)  says  it  was  writ- 
ten by  Jose  Cobo  de  la  Torre,  besides 
which  it  is  inserted  in  the  “ Rebusco  de 
las  Obras  Literarias  de  J.  F.  de  Isla,” 
(Madrid,  1790, 12mo,)  as  if  it  were  un- 
(juestionably  Isla’s.  It  first  appeared  in 
the  second  edition  of  the  sixth  volume 
of  the  ‘ ‘ Diario  de  los  Literatos  ” ; — 
the  earliest  periodical  work  in  the 
spirit  of  modern  criticism  that  was 
published  in  Spain,  and  one  so  much 
in  advance  of  the  age  that  it  did  not 
survive  its  second  year,  having  been 
begun  in  1737,  and  gone  on  one  year 


and  nine  months,  till  it  made  seven 
small  volumes.  It  was  in  vain  that  it 
was  countenanced  by  the  king,  and 
favored  by  the  leading  persons  at  court. 
It  was  too  large  a work ; it  was  a new 
thing,  which  Spaniards  rarely  like ; 
and  it  was  severe  in  its  criticisms,  so 
that  the  authors  of  the  time  generally 
took  the  field  against  it,  and  broke  it 
down. 

To  the  same  period  with  the  Satire 
of  Pitillas  belongs  the  poem  on  “ Deu- 
calion,” by  Alonso  Verdugo  de  Cas- 
tilla, Count  of  Torrepalma.  It  is  an 
imitation  of  Ovid,  in  about  sixty  octave 
stanzas,  somewhat  remarkable  for  its 
versification.  But  in  a better  period 
it  would  not  be  noticed. 


T 


CHAPTER  II. 


Marquis  of  San  Phelipe. — Influence  of  France  on  Spanish  Litera- 
ture.— Luzan. — His  Predecessors  and  his  Doctrines. — Low  State 
OF  ALL  Intellectual  Culture  in  Spain.  — Feyjoo. 

One  historical  work  of  some  consequence  belongs 
entirely  to  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  — the  com- 
mentaries on  the  War  of  the  Succession,  and  the  his- 
tory of  the  country  from  1701  to  1725,  by  the  Marquis 
of  San  Phelipe.  Its  author,  a gentleman  of  Spanish 
descent,  Avas  born  in  Sardinia,  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  early  filled  several  offices  of 
consequence  under  the  government  of  Spain ; but,  when 
his  native  island  was  conquered  by  the  Austrian  party, 
he  remained  faithful  to  the  French  family,  under  whom 
he  had  thus  far  served,  and  made  his  escape  to  Madrid. 
There  Philip  the  Fifth  received  him  Avith  great  favor. 
He  Avas  created  Marquis  of  San  Phelipe,  — a title  chosen 
by  himself  in  compliment  to  the  king,  — and,  besides 
being  much  employed  during  the  Avar  in  military  affairs, 
he  Avas  sent  afterwards  as  ambassador,  first  to  Genoa, 
and  then  to  the  Hague,  Avhere  he  died,  on  the  1st  of 
July,  1726. 

In  his  youth  the  Marquis  of  San  Phelipe  had  been 
educated  Avith  care,  and  therefore,  during  the  active  por- 
tions of  his  life,  found  an  agreeable  resource  in  intellect- 
ual occupations.  He  wrote  a poem  in  octave  stanzas  on 
the  story  in  the  “ Book  of  Tobit,”  which  was  printed  in 
1709,  and  a history  of  “The  HebreAV  Monarchy,”  taken 


Chap.  II.] 


MARQUES  DE  SAN  PHELIPE. 


231 


from  the  Bible  and  Josephus,  which  did  not  appear  till 
1727,  the  year  after  his  death.  But  his  chief  work  was 
on  the  War  of  the  Succession.  The  great  interest  he  took 
in  the  Bourbon  cause  induced  him  to  write  it,  and  the 
position  he  had  occupied  in  the  affairs  of  his  time  gave 
him  ample  materials,  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  others 
less  favored.  He  called  it  “Commentaries  on  the  War 
of  Spain,  and  History  of  its  King,  Philip  the  Fifth,  the 
Courageous,  frotn  the  Beginning  of  his  Reign  to  the 
Year  1725”;  but,  although  the  compliment  to  his 
sovereign  implied  on  the  title-page  is  faithfully  carried 
through  the  whole  narrative,  the  book  was  not  pub- 
lished without  difficulty.  The  first  volume,  in  folio, 
after  being  printed  at  Madrid,  was  suppressed  by  order 
of  the  king,  out  of  regard  to  the  honor  of  certain  Span- 
ish families  that  show  to  little  advantage  in  the  trou- 
blesome times  it  records ; so  that  the  earliest  complete 
edition  appeared  at  Genoa  without  date,  but  probably 
in  1729. 

It  is  a spirited  book,  earnest  in  the  cause  of  Castile 
against  Catalonia;  but  still,  notwithstanding  its  parti- 
san character,  it  is  the  most  valuable  of  the  contem- 
porary accounts  of  the  events  to  which  it  relates ; and, 
notwithstanding  it  has  a good  deal  of  the  lively  air  of 
the  French  memoirs,  then  so  much  in  fashion,  it  is 
strongly  marked  with  the  old  Spanish  feelings  of  relig- 
ion and  loyalty,  — feelings  which  this  very  book  proves 
to  have  partly  survived  the  general  decay  of  the  national 
character  during  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  convul- 
sions that  had  shaken  it  at  the  opening  of  the  eighteenth. 
In  style  it  is  not  perfectly  pure.  Perhaps  tokens  of  its 
author’s  Sardinian  education  are  seen  in  his  choice  of 
words ; and  certainly  his  pointed  epigrammatic  phrases 
and  sentences  often  show,  that  he  leaned  to  the  rhetori- 


232 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


cal  doctrines  of  Gracian,  of  whom,  in  his  narrative 
poem,  we  see  that  he  had  once  been  a thorough  dis- 
ciple. But  the  Commentaries  are,  after  all,  a pleasant 
book,  and  abound  in  details,  given  with  much  modesty 
where  their  author  is  personally  concerned,  and  with  a 
picturesqueness  which  belongs  only  to  the  narrative 
of  one  who  has  been  an  actor  in  the  scenes  he  de- 
scribes.' 

But,  when  we  speak  of  Spanish  literature  in  the  reign 
of  Philip  the  Fifth,  we  must  never  forget  that  the  in- 
fluence of  France  was  gradually  becoming  felt  in  all 
the  culture  of  the  country.  The  mass  of  the  people, 
it  is  true,  either  took  no  cognizance  of  the  coming 
change,  or  resisted  it ; and  the  new  government  willing- 
ly avoided  whatever  might  seem  to  offend  or  undervalue 
the  old  Castilian  spirit.  But  Paris  was  then,  as  it  had 
long  been,  the  most  refined  capital  in  Europe  ; and  the 
courts  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth  and  Louis  the  Fifteenth, 
necessarily  in  intimate  relations  with  that  of  Philip  the 
Fifth,  could  not  fail  to  carry  to  Madrid  a tone  which 
was  already  spreading  of  itself  into  Germany  and  the 
extreme  North. 

French,  in  fact,  soon  began  to  be  spoken  in  the  ele- 
gant society  of  the  capital  and  the  court ; — a thing 
before  unknown  in  Spain,  though  French  princesses 
had  more  than  once  sat  on  the  Spanish  throne.  But 
now  it  was  a compliment  to  the  reigning  monarch  him- 
self, and  courtiers  strove  to  indulge  in  it.  Pitillas,  un- 
der pretence  of  laughing  at  himself  for  following  the 

1 “Los  Tobias,  su  Vida  escrita  en  Genoa,  no  date,  2 tom.  4to.  Of  the 
Octavas,  por  D.  Vicente  Baeallar  y last  there  is  a poor  continuation,  bring- 
Sanna,  Marques  de  San  Phelipe,”  etc.,  ing  the  history  down  to  1742,  entitled, 
4to,  pp.  178,  without  date,  but  licensed  “ Continuacion  a los  Comentarios,  etc.. 
1709. — “MonarchiaHebrea,”  Madrid,  por  D.  Joseph  del  Campo  Raso,”  Ma- 
1727,  2 tom.  4to. — “ Comentarios  de  la  drid,  1756  - 63,  2 tom.  4to. 

Guerra  de  Espana  hasta  el  Aiio  1725,” 


Chap.  II.] 


LUZAN. 


233 


fashion,  ridicules  the  awkwardness  of  those  who  did 
so,  when  he  says, 

And  French  I talk  ; at  least  enough  to  know 
That  neither  I nor  other  men  more  shrewd 
Can  comprehend  my  words,  though  still  endued 
With  power  to  raise  my  heavy  Spanish  dough. 

And  Father  Isla  makes  himself  merry  with  the  idea 
of  a man  who  fancies  he  has  married  an  Andalusian  or 
Castilian  Avife,  and  finds  out  that  she  proves  little  better 
than  a Frenchwoman  after  all.^ 

Translations  from  the  French  followed  this  state  of 
things ; and,  at  last,  an  attempt  was  made  to  introduce 
formally  into  Spain  a poetical  system  founded  on  the 
critical  doctrines  prevalent  in  France.  Its  author,  Ig- 
nacio de  Luzan,  a gentleman  of  Aragon,  was  born  in 
1702;  and,  Avhile  still  a child,  went  to  Italy  and  re- 
ceived a learned  education  in  the  schools  of  Milan, 
Palermo,  and  Naples ; remaining  abroad  eighteen  years, 
and  enjoying  the  society  of  several  of  the  most  distin- 
guished Italian  poets  of  the  time,  among  whom  were 
MafFei  and  Metastasio.  At  last,  in  1733,  he  returned 
to  Spain,  a Avell-bred  scholar,  according  to  the  ideas 
of  scholarship  then  prevalent  in  Italy,  and  Avith  a sin- 
gular facility  in  Avriting  and  speaking  French  and 
Italian. 

His  personal  affairs  and  his  native  modesty  kept  him 
for  some  time  in  retirement  on  the  estates  of  his  family 
in  Aragon.  But,  in  the  condition  to  Avhich  Spanish 
literature  Avas  then  reduced,  a man  of  so  many  accom- 
plishments could  hardly  fail,  in  any  position,  to  make 
his  influence  felt.  That  of  Luzan  soon  became  percep- 
tible, because  he  loved  to  Avrite,  and  Avrote  a great  deal. 

■2  Pitillas,  Satira.  Isla,  A los  que  afectan  ser  Estrangeros.  Rebusco,  p. 
degenerando  del  Caracter  Espafiol,  178. 

VOL.  III.  30  T* 


234  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

In  Italy  and  Sicily  he  had  published,  not  only  Italian 
poetry  of  his  own,  but  French.  In  his  native  language 
and  at  home,  he  naturally  went  further.  He  translated 
from  Anacreon,  Sappho,  and  Musseus ; he  fitted  dramas 
of  Maffei,  La  Chaussee,  and  Metastasio  to  the  Spanish 
stage ; and  he  wrote  a considerable  number  of  short 
poems,  and  one  original  drama,  “ Virtue  Honored,” 
which  was  privately  represented  in  Saragossa. 

Whatever  he  did  was  well  received,  but  little  of  it  was 
published  at  the  time,  and  not  much  has  appeared  since. 
His  “ Odes  on  the  Conquest  of  Oran  ” were  particularly 
admired  by  his  friends,  and,  though  somewhat  cold,  may 
still  be  read  with  pleasure.  These  and  other  composi- 
tions made  him  known  to  the  government  at  Madrid, 
and  procured  for  him,  in  1747,  the  appointment  of 
Secretary  to  the  Spanish  embassy  at  Paris.  There  he 
remained  three  years,  and,  from  the  absence  of  the  am- 
bassador, acted,  for  a large  part  of  the  time,  as  the  only 
representative  of  his  country  at  the  French  court.  On 
his  return  home,  he  continued  to  enjoy  the  confidence 
of  the  king;  and  when  he  died  suddenly,  in  1754,  he 
was  in  great  favor,  and  about  to  receive  a place  of  more 
consequence  than  any  he  had  yet  held.^ 

The  circumstances  of  the  country,  and  those  of  his 
own  education,  position,  and  tastes,  opened  to  Luzan,  as 
a critic,  a career  of  almost  assured  success.  Every  thing 
was  so  enfeebled  and  degraded,  that  it  could  offer  no 


3 Latassa,  Bib.  Nueva,  Tom.  V. 
p.  12,  and  Preface  to  the  edition  of 
Lnzan’s  Poetica,  by  his  son,  1789. 
His  poetry  has  never  been  collected 
and  published,  but  portions  of  it  are 
found  in  Sedano,  Quintana,  etc.  The 
octaves  he  recited  at  the  opening  of  the 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  in  1752,  and 
published  at  p.  21  of  the  “ Abertura 
Solemne,”  etc.,  printed  in  honor  of 


the  occasion  (Madrid,  folio) ; and  the 
similar  poems  recited  by  him  at  a dis- 
tribution of  prizes  by  the  same  Acad- 
emy, in  1754,  and  published  in  their 
“ Relacion,”  etc.,  (Madrid,  folio,  pp. 
51-61,)  prove  rather  the  dignity  of 
his  social  position  than  any  thing  else. 
Latassa  gives  a long  account  of  his  im- 
published  works. 


Chap.  II.] 


early  treatises  on  poetry. 


235 


effectual  resistance  to  what  he  might  teach.  The  polit- 
ical importance  of  his  country  among  the  nations  of 
Europe  had  been  crushed.  Its  moral  dignity  was  im- 
paired. Its  school  of  poetry  had  disappeared.  The  old 
system  of  things  in  Spain,  as  far  as  poetical  culture  was 
concerned,  had  passed  away,  no  less  than  the  Austrian 
dynasty,  with  which  it  had  come  in ; and  no  attempt  de- 
serving the  name  had  yet  been  made  to  determine  what 
should  be  the  intellectual  character  of  the  system  that 
should  follow  it.  A small  effort,  under  such  circum- 
stances, Avould  go  far  towards  imparting  a decisive 
movement ; and,  in  literary  taste  and  criticism,  Luzan 
was  certainly  well  fitted  to  give  the  guiding  impulse. 
He  had  been  educated  Avith  great  thoroughness  in  the 
principles  of  the  classical  French  school,  and  he  possess- 
ed all  the  learning  necessary  to  make  knoAvn  and  sup- 
port its  peculiar  doctrines.  In  1728,  he  had  offered  to 
the  Academy  at  Palermo,  of  Avhich  he  Avas  a member, 
six  critical  discussions  on  poetry,  Avritten  in  Italian ; so 
that,  Avhen  he  returned  to  Spain,  he  had  only  to  take 
these  papers  and  work  them  into  a formal  treatise,  suit- 
ed to  what  he  deemed  the  pressing  Avants  of  the  coun- 
try. He  did  so ; — and  the  result  was  his  “ Art  of 
Poetry,”  the  first  edition  of  Avhich  appeared  in  1737. 

The  attempt  was  by  no  means  a neAV  one.  The  rules 
and  doctrines  of  the  ancients,  in  matters  of  taste  and 
rhetoric,  had  frequently  before  been  announced  and  de- 
fended in  Spain.  Even  Enzina,  the  oldest  of  those  Avho 
regarded  Castilian  poetry  as  an  art,  Avas  not  ignorant 
of  Quintilian  and  Cicero,  though,  in  his  short  treatise, 
Avhich  shows  more  good  sense  and  good  taste  than  can 
be  claimed  from  the  age,  he  takes  substantially  the  same 
vieAV  of  his  subject  that  the  Marquis  of  Villena  and 
the  Provencals  had  taken  before  him,  — considering  all 


236 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


poetry  chiefly  with  reference  to  its  mechanical  forms.^ 
Rengifo,  a teacher  of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  whose 
“ Spanish  Art  of  Poetry  ” dates  from  1592,  conflnes 
himself  almost  entirely  to  the  structure  of  the  verse  and 
the  technical  forms  known  both  to  the  elder  Castilian 
style  of  composition  and  to  the  Italian  introduced  by 
Boscan ; — a curious  discussion,  in  which  the  authority 
of  the  ancients  is  by  no  means  forgotten,  but  one  whose 
chief  value  consists  in  what  it  contains  relating  to  the 
national  school  and  its  peculiar  measures.® 

Alonso  Lopez,  commonly  called  El  Pinciano,  — the 
same  person  who  Avrote  the  dull  epic  on  Pelayo,  — went 
further,  and  in  1596  published  his  “ Ancient  Poetical 
Philosophy,”  in  which,  under  the  disguise  of  a friendly 
correspondence,  he  gives,  with  much  learning  and  some 
acuteness,  his  own  views  of  the  opinions  of  the  ancient 
masters  on  all  the  modes  of  poetical  composition.®  Cas- 
cales  followed  him,  in  1616,  with  a series  of  dialogues, 
somewhat  more  familiar  than  the  grave  letters  of  Lo- 
pez, and  resting  more  on  the  doctrines  of  Horace, 
whose  epistle  to  the  Pisos  he  afterwards  published,  with 
a well-written  Latin  commentary.’’  Salas,  on  the  con- 
trary, in  his  “New  Idea  of  Ancient  Tragedy,”  which 
appeared  in  1633,  followed  Aristotle  rather  than  any 
other  authority,  and  illustrated  his  discussion  — which 
is  the  ablest  in  Spanish  literature  on  the  side  it  sus- 
tains— by  a translation  of  the  “Trojanse”  of  Seneca, 


^ It  is  prefixed  to  the  edition  of 
Enzina’s  Cancionero,  1496,  folio,  and, 
I suppose,  to  the  other  editions ; and 
fills  nine  short  chapters. 

5 “Arte  Poetica  Espanola,  su  Autor 
Juan  Diaz  Rengifo,”  Salamanca,  1592, 
4to,  enlarged,  but  not  improved,  in 
the  editions  of  1700,  1737,  etc.,  by 
Joseph  Vicens. 

6 “ Philosophia  Antigua  Poetica  del 


Doctor  Alonso  Lopez  Pinciano,  Medi- 
co Cesareo,”  Madrid,  1596,  4to. 

“ Tablas  Poeticas  del  Licenciado 
Francisco  Cascales,”  1616.  An  edition 
of  Madrid,  1779,  8vo,  contains  a Life 
of  the  author  by  Mayans  y Siscar. 
Cascales  is  presumptuous  enough  to  re- 
arrange Horace’s  “ Ars  Poetica”  in 
what  he  regards  as  a better  order. 


Chap.  II.] 


LUZAN’S  POfiTICA. 


237 


and  an  address  of  the  theatre  of  all  ages  to  its  various 
audiences.® 

All  these  works,  however,  and  three  or  four  others  of 
less  consequence,  assumed,  so  far  as  they  attempted  to 
lay  their  foundations  in  philosophy,  to  be  built  on  the 
rules  laid  down  by  Aristotle  or  the  Roman  rhetori- 
cians.® In  this  they  committed  a serious  error.  Ancient 
rhetoric  can  be  applied,  in  all  its  strictness,  to  no  mod- 
ern poetry,  and  least  of  all  to  the  poetry  of  Spain.  The 
school  of  Lope  de  Vega,  therefore,  passed  over  them 
like  an  irresistible  flood,  leaving  behind  it  hardly  a trace 
of  the  structures  that  had  been  raised  to  oppose  its 
progress.  But  Luzan  took  a different  ground.  His  more 
immediate  predecessors  had  been  Gracian,  who  defended 
the  Gongorism  of  the  preceding  period,  and  Artiga, 
who,  in  a long  treatise  “ On  Spanish  Eloquence,”  writ- 
ten in  the  ballad  measures,  had  seemed  willing  to  encour- 
age all  the  bad  taste  that  prevailed  in  the  beginning  of 
the  eighteenth  century.'® 

Luzan  took  no  notice  of  either  of  them.  He  followed 
the  poetical  system  of  Boileau  and  Lebossu,  not,  indeed, 
forgetting  the  masters  of  antiquity,  but  everywhere  ac- 
commodating his  doctrines  to  the  demands  of  modern 
poetry,  as  Muratori  had  done  just  before  him,  and  en- 
forcing them  by  the  example  of  the  French  school,  then 


s “ Nueva  Idea  dela  Tragedia  Anti- 
gua, 6 Illustracion  Ultima  al  libro  Sin- 
t^uiar  de  Poetica  de  Aristoteles,  por 
Don  Jusepe  Ant.  Gonzalez  de  Salas,” 
Madrid,  1033,  4to. 

9 Of  the  treatise  of  Argote  de  Mo- 
lina, prefixed  to  his  edition  of  the 
“ Conde  Lucanor,”  1575,  and  of  the 
poem  of  Cueva,  I have  spoken  (I.  507, 
II.  569).  A small  tract,  called  “ Libro 
de  Erudicion  Poetica,”  published  in 
the  works  of  Luis  Carrillo,  1611,  and 
several  of  the  epistles  of  Christoval 


de  Mesa,  1618,  might  be  added ; but 
the  last  arc  of  little  consequence,  and 
the  tract  of  Carrillo  is  in  very  bad 
taste. 

19  Gracian  has  been  noticed  in  this 
volume  (p.  192).  The  “ Epitome  de  la 
Eloquencia  Espafiola,  por  D.  Francis- 
co Joseph  Artiga,  olim  Artieda,”  was 
licensed  in  1725,  and  contains  above 
thirteen  thousand  lines  ; — a truly 
ridiculous  book,  but  of  some  conse- 
quence as  showing  the  taste  of  the 
age,  especially  in  pulpit  oratory. 


238 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


more  admired  than  any  other  in  Europe."  His  object, 
as  he  afterwards  explained  it,  was  “ to  bring  Spanish 
poetry  under  the  control  of  those  precepts  which  are 
observed  among  polished  nations  ” ; and  his  work  is  ar- 
ranged with  judgment  to  effect  his  purpose.  The  first 
book  treats  of  the  origin  and  nature  of  poetry,  and  the 
second,  of  the  pleasure  and  advantage  poetry  brings 
with  it.  These  two  books  constitute  one  half  of  the 
work,  and  having  gone  through  in  them  what  he  thinks 
it  necessary  to  say  of  the  less  important  divisions  of  the 
art,  — such  as  lyric  poetry,  satire,  and  pastorals,  — he 
devotes  the  two  remaining  books  entirely  to  a discussion 
of  the  drama  and  of  epic  poetry,  — the  forms  in  which 
Spanish  genius  had  long  been  more  ambitious  of  ex- 
cellence than  in  any  other.  A strict  method  reigns 
through  the  whole ; and  the  style,  if  less  rich  than  is 
found  in  the  older  prose-writers,  and  less  so  than  the 
genius  of  the  language  demands,  is  clear,  simple,  and  ef- 
fective. In  explaining  and  defending  his  system  of  opin- 
ions, he  shows  judgment,  and  a temperate  philosophy  ; 
and  his  abundant  illustrations,  drawn  not  only  from  the 
Castilian,  the  French,  the  Greek,  and  the  Latin,  but  from 
the  Italian  and  the  Portuguese,  are  selected  with  excel- 
lent taste,  and  applied  skilfully  to  strengthen  his  gen- 
eral argument  and  design.  For  its  purpose,  a better 
treatise  could  hardly  have  been  produced. 

The  effect  was  immediate  and  great.  It  seemed  to 
offer  a remedy  for  the  bad  taste  which  had  accompa- 
nied, and  in  no  small  degree  hastened,  the  decline  of  the 


n Blanco  White  (Life  by  Thom,  the  Italian  one.  But  Luzan  has  not  in 
1845,  8vo,  Vol.  I.  p.  21)  says  Luzan  fact  copied  from  Muratori  with  the 
borrowed  so  freely  from  Muratori,  unjustifiable  freedom  this  remark  im- 
“ Della  Perfetta  Poesia,”  that  the  plies,  though  he  has  adopted  Mura- 
Spanish  treatise  helped  him  (Mr.  tori's  general  system,  with  abundant 
White)  materially  in  learning  to  read  acknowledgment  and  references. 


Chap.  II.]  LOW  STATE  OF  SPANISH  CULTURE.  239 

national  literature  from  the  time  of  Gongora.  It  was 
seized  on,  therefore,  with  eagerness,  as  the  book  that 
was  wanted ; and  when  to  this  we  add  that  the  litera- 
ture of  the  age  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  which  it  held 
up  as  the  model  literature  of  Christendom,  was  then 
regarded  throughout  Europe  with  almost  unmingled 
admiration,  Ave  shall  not  be  surprised  that  the  “Poe- 
tica”  of  Luzan  exercised,  from  its  first  appearance,  a 
controlling  authority  over  opinion  at  the  court  of  Spain, 
and  over  the  few  Avriters  of  reputation  then  to  be  found 
in  the  country.'^ 

Something  more,  hoAvever,  than  a reformation  in  taste 
Avas  Avanted  in  Spain  before  a sufficient  foundation  could 
be  laid  for  advancement  in  elegant  literature.  The  com- 
monest forms  of  truth  had  been  so  long  excluded  from 
the  country,  that  the  human  mind  there  seemed  to  have 
pined  aAvay,  and  to  have  become  dAvarfed,  for  Avant  of  its 
appropriate  nourishment.  All  the  great  sciences,  both 
moral  and  physical,  that  had  been  for  a hundred  years 
advancing  Avith  an  accelerated  speed  everyAvhere  else 
throughout  Europe,  had  been  unable  to  force  their  Avay 
through  the  jealous  guard  Avhich  ecclesiastical  and  po- 
litical despotism  had  joined  to  keep  for  ever  Avatching 
the  passes  of  the  Pyrenees.  From  the  days  of  the  CV 
muneros  and  the  Peformation  of  Luther,  Avhen  religious 
sects  began  to  discuss  the  authority  of  princes  and  the 


1'^  The  first  edition  of  the  “ Pocti- 
ca”  of  Luzan  was  printed  in  folio  at 
Saragossa,  in  1737,  with  long  and  ex- 
traordinary certificates  of  approbation 
by  Navarro  and  Gallinero,  two  of  the 
author’s  friends.  The  second  edition, 
materially  improved  by  additions  from 
the  manuscripts  of  Luzan,  after  his 
death,  was  printed  at  Madrid,  in  2 
tom.  8vo,  in  1789.  When  the  first 
edition  appeared,  it  was  much  praised 
in  the  “ Diario  de  los  Literates” 


(Tom.  VIL,  1738)  ; but,  as  one  of 
the  reviewers,  Juan  de  Iriarte,  who 
wrote  the  latter  part  of  the  article, 
made  a few  e.xceptions  to  his  general 
commendations,  Luzan,  who  was  more 
sensitive  than  he  needed  to  be,  re- 
plied in  a small  bitter  tract,  under 
the  name  of  Inigo  de  Lanuza,  Pam- 
plona, [1740,]  12mo,  pp.  144,  with 
cumbrous  and  learned  notes  by  Colme- 
nares,  to  whom  the  tract  is  dedicated. 


240 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


rights  of  the  people,  and  when  the  punishment  of  opin- 
ion became  the  settled  policy  of  the  Spanish  state,  every 
thing  in  the  shape  of  instruction  that  was  not  approved 
by  the  Church  was  treated  as  dangerous.  At  the  uni- 
versities, which  from  their  foundation  had  been  entirely 
ecclesiastical  corporations,  and  were  used  constantly  to 
build  up  ecclesiastical  influences,  no  elegant  learning 
was  fostered,  and  very  little  tolerated,  except  such  as 
furnished  means  to  form  scholastic  Churchmen  and 
faithful  Catholics ; the  physical  and  exact  sciences 
were  carefully  excluded  and  forbidden,  except  so  far 
as  they  could  be  taught  on  the  authority  of  Aristotle; 
and,  as  Jovellanos  said  boldly  in  a memorial  on  the 
subject  to  Charles  the  Fourth,  “ even  medicine  and 
jurisprudence  would  have  been  neglected,  if  the  in- 
stincts of  men  had  permitted  them  to  forget  the  means 
by  which  life  and  property  are  protected.”^® 

The  Spanish  universities,  in  fact,  still  taught  from  the 
same  books  they  had  used  in  the  time  of  Cardinal  Xime- 
nes,  and  by  the  same  methods.  The  scholastic  philoso- 
phy was  still  regarded  as  the  highest  form  of  merely  in- 
tellectual culture.  Diego  de  Torres,  afterwards  distin- 
guished for  his  knowledge  in  the  physical  sciences,  — 
a man  born  and  educated  at  Salamanca  in  the  flrst  half 
of  the  century,  — says,  that,  after  he  had  been  flve  years 
in  one  of  the  schools  of  the  University  there,  it  was  by 
accident  he  learned  the  existence  of  the  mathematical 
sciences.^*  And,  fifty  years  later,  Blanco  White  de- 
clares, that,  like  most  of  his  countrymen,  he  should  have 
completed  his  studies  in  theology  at  the  University  of 

13  Cean  Bermudez,  Memorias  de  ten  in  the  worst  taste  of  the  time,  i.  e. 
•Jovellanos,  Madrid,  1814,  12mo,  cap.  about  1743.  He  says  of  a treatise  on 
X.  p.  221.  the  Sphere,  by  Padre  Clavio  : “Creo 

i"!  Vida,  Ascendencia,  etc. , del  Doc-  que  fue  la  primera  noticia  que  habia  lie- 
tor  Diego  de  Torres  Villaroel,  Madrid,  gado  a mis  oidos  de  que  habia  ciencias 
1789,  4to  ; — an  autobiography,  writ-  matematicas  en  el  mundo.”  (p.  34.) 


Chap.  II.] 


LOW  STATE  OF  SPANISH  CULTURE. 


241 


Seville  without  so  much  as  hearing  of  elegant  literature, 
if  he  had  not  chanced  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a 
person  who  introduced  him  to  a partial  knowledge  of 
Spanish  poetry.^® 

Thus  far,  therefore,  the  old  system  of  things  was  tri- 
umphant, and  the  common  forms  of  advancing  knowl- 
edge were,  to  an  extraordinary  and  almost  incredible 
degree,  kept  out  of  the  country.  On  the  other  hand, 
errors,  follies,  and  absurdities  sprang  up  and  abounded, 
just  as  surely  as  darkness  follows  the  exclusion  of  light. 
Few  persons  in  Spain  in  the  beginning  of  the  eigh- 
teenth centiuy  were  so  well  informed  as  not  to  believe  in 
astrology,  and  fewer  still  doubted  the  disastrous  influence 
of  comets  and  eclipses.  The  system  of  Copernicus  was 
not  only  discouraged,  but  forbidden  to  be  taught,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  contrary  to  Scripture.  The  philoso- 
phy of  Bacon,  with  all  the  consequences  that  had  follo^v- 
ed  it,  was  unknown.  It  was  not,  perhaps,  true,  that  the 
healing  waters  of  knowledge  had  been  rolled  backward 
to  their  foimtain,  but  no  spirit  of  power  had  descended 
to  trouble  them,  and  they  had  now  been  kept  stagnant 
till  life  was  no  longer  in  them  and  life  could  no  longer 
be  supported  by  them.  It  seemed  as  if  the  faculties  of 
thmking  and  reasoning,  in  the  better  sense  of  these 
words,  were  either  about  to  be  entirely  lost  in  Spain,  or 
to  be  partly  preserved  only  in  a few  scattered  individ- 
uals, who,  by  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  tyranny  that 
oppressed  them,  would  be  prevented  from  diffusing  even 
the  imperfect  light  which  they  themselves  enjoyed. 

But  it  could  not  be  so.  The  human  mind  cannot  be 
permanently  imprisoned ; and  it  is  an  obvious  proof  of 
this  consoling  fact,  that  the  intellectual  emancipation  of 

1“  Doblado’s  Letters,  1822,  p.  113. 

VOL.  III.  31  U 


242 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


Spain  was  begun  by  a man  of  no  extraordinary  gifts, 
and  one  whose  position  gave  him  no  extraordinary  ad- 
vantages for  the  undertaking  to  which  he  devoted  his 
life,  — the  quiet  monk,  Benito  Feyjoo.  He  was  born 
in  1676,  the  eldest  son  of  respectable  parents  in  the 
northwestern  part  of  Spain,  who,  contrary  to  the  opin- 
ions of  their  time,  did  not  think  the  law  of  primogeni- 
ture required  them  to  devote  their  first-born  wholly  to 
the  duty  of  sustaining  the  honors  of  his  family  and  en- 
joying the  income  of  the  estates  he  was  to  inherit.  At 
the  age  of  fourteen,  his  destination  to  the  Church  was 
determined  upon ; but  he  loved  study  of  all  kinds,  and 
applied  himself,  not  only  to  theology,  but  to  the  physical 
sciences  and  to  medicine,  so  far  as  means  were  allowed 
him  in  the  low  state  to  which  all  intellectual  culture 
was  then  sunk.  As  early  as  1717,  he  established  him- 
self in  a Benedictine  convent  at  Oviedo,  and  lived  there 
forty-seven  years  in  as  strict  a retirement  as  his  duties 
permitted,  occupied  only  with  his  studies,  and  relying 
almost  entirely  on  the  press  as  the  means  of  enlighten- 
ing his  countrymen. 

His  personal  character  and  resources,  in  some  re- 
spects, fitted  him  well  for  the  great  task  he  had  under- 
taken. He  was  a sincere  Catholic,  and  therefore  felt 
no  disposition  to  interfere  even  with  abuses  that  were 
protected  by  the  authority  of  his  Church ; a circum- 
stance without  which  he  would  have  been  stopped  at 
the  very  threshold  of  his  enterprise.  His  mind  was 
strong  and  patient  of  labor;  and  if,  on  the  one  hand, 
his  researches  were  restrained  by  the  embarrassments 
of  his  ecclesiastical  position,  he  had,  on  the  other,  ob- 
tained, what  few  Spaniards  then  enjoyed,  the  means 
of  knowing  much  of  what  had  been  done  in  Italy,  in 
France,  and  even  in  England,  for  the  advancement  of 


Chap.  II.] 


FEYJOd 


243 


science  during  the  century  preceding  that  in  which  he 
was  educated.  Above  all,  he  was  honest,  and  seriously 
devoted  to  his  work.  But,  as  he  advanced,  he  was  shock- 
ed to  find  how  wide  a gulf  separated  his  own  country 
from  the  rest  of  Europe.  Truth,  he  saAV,  had,  on  many 
important  subjects,  been  so  completely  excluded  from 
Spain,  that  its  very  existence  was  hardly  suspected ; 
and  that,  while  Cervantes  and  Lope  de  Vega,  Calderon 
and  Quevedo,  had  been  rioting  unrestrained  in  the  world 
of  imagination,  the  solemn  world  of  reality,  — the  world 
of  moral  and  physical  truth,  — had  been  as  much  closed 
against  inquiry  as  if  his  country  had  been  no  part  of 
civilized  Europe. 

At  times  he  seems  to  have  been  anxious  concerning 
the  result  of  his  labors ; but,  on  the  whole,  his  courage 
did  not  fail  him.  He  was  not,  indeed,  a man  of  genius. 
He  was  not  a man  to  invent  new  systems  of  metaphys- 
ics or  philosophy.  But  he  was  a learned  man,'  with  a 
cautious  judgment,  somewhat  obscured,  but  not  really 
impaired,  by  religious  prejudices,  from  which  he  could 
not  be  expected  to  emancipate  himself ; he  was  a man 
who  understood  the  real  importance  of  the  labors  of 
Galileo,  Bacon,  and  Newton,  of  Leibnitz,  Pascal,  and 
Gassendi;  and,  what  was  of  vastly  more  consequence, 
he  was  determined  that  his  own  countrymen  should  no 
longer  remain  ignorant  of  the  advancement  already 
made  by  the  rest  of  Christendom  under  the  influence 
of  master-spirits  like  these. 

So  far  as  the  War  of  the  Succession  had  served  to 
rouse  the  national  character  from  its  lethargy,  and  to 
direct  the  thoughts  of  Spaniards  to  what  had  been  done 
beyond  the  Pyrenees,  it  was  favorable  to  his  purpose. 
But  in  other  respects,  as  we  have  seen,  it  had  effected 
nothing  for  the  national  culture.  Still,  when,  in  1726, 


244  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

Feyjoo  printed  a volume  of  essays  connected  with  his 
main  purpose,  he  was  able  to  command  public  attention, 
and  was  encouraged  to  go  on.  He  called  it  “ The  Crit- 
ical Theatre  ” ; and  in  its  different  dissertations,  — as 
separate  as  the  papers  in  “ The  Spectator,”  but  longer 
and  on  graver  subjects,  — he  boldly  attacked  the  dialec- 
tics and  metaphysics  then  taught  everywhere  in  Spain ; 
mauitained  Bacon’s  system  of  induction  in  the  physical 
sciences ; ridiculed  the  general  opinion  in  relation  to 
comets,  eclipses,  and  the  arts  of  magic  and  divination ; 
laid  down  rules  for  historical  faith,  which  would  ex- 
clude most  of  the  early  traditions  of  the  country; 
showed  a greater  deference  for  woman,  and  claimed  for 
her  a higher  place  in  society,  than  the  influence  of  the 
Spanish  Church  willingly  permitted  her  to  occupy ; and, 
in  all  respects,  came  forth  to  his  countrymen  as  one  urg- 
ing earnestly  the  pursuit  of  truth  and  the  improvement 
of  social  life.  Eight  volumes  of  this  stirring  work  were 
published  before  1739,  and  then  it  stopped,  without  any 
apparent  reason.  But  in  1742  Feyjoo  began  a similar 
series  of  discussions,  under  the  name  of  “ Learned  and 
Inquiring  Letters,”  which  he  finished  in  1760,  with  the 
fifth  volume,  thus  closing  up  the  long  series  of  his  truly 
philanthropical,  as  well  as  philosophical,  labors. 

Of  course  he  was  assailed.  A work,  called  the  “An- 
titeatro  Critico,”  appeared  early,  and  was  soon  followed 
by  another,  with  nearly  the  same  title,  and  by  not  a few 
scattered  tracts  and  volumes,  directed  against  different 
portions  of  what  he  had  published.  But  he  was  quite 
able  to  defend  himself.  He  wrote  with  clearness  and 
good  taste  in  an  age  when  the  prevailing  style  was  ob- 
scure and  affected ; and,  if  he  fell  occasionally  into  Gal- 
licisms, from  relying  much  on  French  writers  for  his 
materials,  his  mistakes  of  this  sort  were  rare;  and,  in 


Chap.  II.] 


FEYJOO. 


245 


general,  he  presented  himself  in  a Castilian  costume, 
that  was  respectable  and  attractive.  Nor  was  he  without 
wit,  which  his  prudence  taught  him  to  use  sparingly,  and 
he  had  always  the  energy  which  belongs  to  good  sense 
and  practical  wisdom ; a union  of  qualities  not  often 
found  anywhere,  and  certainly  of  most  rare  occurrence  in 
cloisters  like  those  in  which  Feyjoo  passed  his  long  life. 

The  attacks  made  on  him,  therefore,  served  chiefly  to 
draw  to  his  works  the  attention  he  solicited,  and  in 
the  end  advanced  his  cause,  instead  of  retarding  it. 
Even  the  Inquisition,  to  which  he  was  more  than  once 
denounced,  summoned  him  in  vain  before  its  tribunals.^® 
His  faith  could  not  be  questioned,  and  his  cause  was 
stronger  than  they  were.  Fifteen  editions  of  his  prin- 
cipal work,  large  as  it  was,  were  printed  in  half  a 
century.  The  excitement  it  produced  went  on  increas- 
ing as  long  as  he  lived;  and  when  he  died,  in  1764,  he 
could  look  back  and  see  that  he  had  unparted  a move- 
ment to  tire  human  mind  in  Spain,  which,  though  it  was 
far  from  raising  Spanish  philosophy  to  a level  with  that 
of  France  and  England,  had  yet  given  it  a right  direc- 
tion, and  done  more  for  the  intellectual  life  of  his  coun- 
try than  had  been  done  for  a century. 


16  Llorente,  Hist,  de  I’Inq.,  Tom. 
II.  p.  446.  It  may  be  deemed  worthy 
of  notice,  that  Oliver  Goldsmith  pays 
an  appropriate  tribute  to  the  merits  of 
Father  Feyjoo,  and  relates  an  anecdote 
of  his  showing  the  people  of  a village 
through  which  he  happened  to  pass 
that  what  they  esteemed  a miracle 
was,  in  truth,  only  a natural  effect  of 
reflected  light ; thus  exposing  himself 
to  a summons  from  the  Inquisition. 
(“  The  Bee,”  No.  III.,  Oct.  20,  1759, 
Miscellaneous  Works,  London,  1812, 
8vo,  Vol.  IV.  p.  193.)  But  after  Fey- 
joo’s  death,  the  Inquisition  ordered 
only  a trifling  expurgation  of  his 
“ Teatro  Critico,”  in  one  passage. 
Index,  1790. 


ii  The  “ Teatro  Critico  ” and  “ Car- 
tas Eruditas  y Curiosas,”  with  the  dis- 
cussions they  provoked,  fill  fifteen  and 
sometimes  sixteen  volumes.  The  edi- 
tion of  1778  has  a Life  of  Feyjoo  pre- 
fixed to  it,  written  by  Campomanes,  the 
distinguished  minister  of  state  under 
Charles  III. ; the  same  person  who,  on 
the  nomination  of  Franklin,  was  made 
a member  of  the  American  Philosophi- 
cal Society  at  Philadelphia.  Clemen- 
cin  says  truly  of  Feyjoo,  that  “ to  his 
enlightened  and  religious  mind  is  due 
the  overthrow  of  many  vulgar  errors, 
and  a great  part  of  the  progress  in 
civilization  made  by  Spain  in  the 
eighteenth  century.”  Note  to  Don 
Quixote,  Tom.  V.,  1836,  p.  35. 

U* 


CHAPTER  III. 


Intolerance,  Credulity,  and  Bigotry.  — Reign  of  Ferdinand  the 
Sixth.  — Signs  of  Improvement.  — Literature.  — Saladuena.  — Mo- 
RALEJA.  — Academy  of  Good  Taste.  — Velazquez. — Mayans. — Na- 
sarre. 

It  can  hardly  be  said,  that,  during  the  forty-six  years 
of  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  the  intolerance  which 
had  so  long  blighted  the  land  relaxed  its  grasp.  The 
progress  of  knowledge  might,  indeed,  be  gradually  and 
silently  accumulating  means  to  resist  it,  but  its  power 
was  still  unbroken,  and  its  activity  as  formidable  as 
ever.  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  in  whom  an  old  age  of 
bigotry  naturally  ended  a life  of  selfish  indulgence,  had 
counselled  his  grandson  to  sustain  the  Inquisition,  as 
one  of  the  means  for  insuring  tranquillity  to  the  politi- 
cal government  of  the  country;  and  this  advice,  not 
given  without  a knowledge  of  the  Spanish  character, 
was,  on  the  whole,  acted  upon  with  success,  if  not  with 
entire  consistency. 

At  first,  indeed,  the  personal  dispositions  of  the  king 
in  relation  to  this  mighty  engine  of  state  seemed  some- 
what unsettled.  When  it  was  proposed  to  him  to  cele- 
brate an  auto  da  fe,  as  a part  of  the  pageant  suitable 
to  the  coming  in  of  a new  dynasty,  the  young  monarch, 
fresh  from  the  elegance  of  the  court  of  Versailles,  re- 
fused to  sanction  its  barbarities  by  his  presence.  Even 
later  he  encouraged  Macanaz,  a person  high  in  office,  to 
publish  a work  in  defence  of  the  crown  against  the 


Chap.  III.]  INTOLERANCE  AND  THE  INQUISITION.  247 

overgrown  pretensions  of  the  Church,  and  at  one  time 
he  went  so  far  as  to  entertain  a project  for  suspending 
the  Holy  Office,  or  suppressing  it  altogether^ 

But  these  dispositions  were  transient.  The  Spanish 
priesthood  early  obtained  control  of  the  king’s  mind. 
In  one  of  the  sieges  of  Barcelona,  during  the  War  of  the 
Succession,  he  was  induced  to  consult  an  image  of  the 
Virgin,  and  to  avow  afterwards,  very  solemnly,  that  she 
had  given  him  a miraculous  promise  of  the  fidelity  of 
the  Catalonians,  — a promise,  it  should  be  added,  such 
as  would  be  likely  to  insure  its  own  fulfilment.  The 
death  of  the  queen,  in  1714,  which  plunged  him  into  a 
deep  melancholy,  further  contributed  to  give  power  to 
the  clergy  who  surrounded  him ; and,  a year  afterwards, 
when  the  Inquisition  took  firm  ground  against  Macanaz 
and  the  royal  prerogative,  the  king  yielded,  and  IMaca- 
naz  fled  to  France.  And  finally,  when,  in  1724,  after  a 
few  months  of  abdication,  Philip  resumed  the  reins  of 
government,  which  he  should  never  have  laid  down,  no 
small  part  of  the  increased  energy,  with  which  he  ful- 
filled the  duties  of  his  high  place,  was  inspired  by  the 
influence  of  the  Church.  As  he  grew  older,  he  grew 
more  bigoted ; and  in  his  last  years,  when  the  accumu- 
lated power  placed  in  his  hands  , by  the  destruction  of 
the  few  remaining  privileges  of  Aragon  and  Catalonia 
had  made  him  a more  absolute  monarch  than  ever  be- 
fore sat  on  the  Spanish  throne,  he  seemed  to  rejoice,  as 
much  as  any  of  his  predecessors,  in  devoting  the  whole 
of  his  prerogatives  to  advance  the  interests  of  the  priest- 
hood.^ 

But,  from  first  to  last,  there  was  no  real  relaxation  in 

1 Llorente,  Hist,  de  I’Inquisition,  2 Mahon,  War  of  the  Succession, 
Tom.  IV.,  18.18,  pp.  29,  43.  The  1832,  p.  180.  Tapia,  Historia,  Tom. 
“ Papel  ” of  Macanaz  is  on  the  Index  IV.  p.  32.  San  Phelipe,  Comentarios, 
of  the  Inquisition,  1790.  Lib.  XIV. 


248  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

the  intolerance  of  the  Church.  The  fires  of  the  Inqui- 
sition had  burnt  as  if  Philip  the  Second  were  on  the 
throne.  At  least  one  auto  da  ft  was  celebrated  annu- 
ally in  each  of  the  seventeen  tribunals  into  which  the 
country  was  divided ; so  that  the  entire  number  of  these 
atrocious  popular  exhibitions  of  bigotry  during  the 
reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth  exceeded  seven  hundred  and 
eighty.  How  many  persons  were  burnt  alive  in  them  is 
not  exactly  known;  but  it  is  believed,  that  there  were 
more  than  a thousand,  and  that  at  least  twelve  times 
that  number  were,  in  different  ways,  subjected  to  public 
punishments  and  disgrace.  Judaism,  which  had  pene- 
trated anew  into  Spain,  from  the  period  of  the  conquest 
of  Portugal,  was  the  great  crime,  to  be  hunted  down  with 
all  the  ingenuity  of  persecution;  and  undoubtedly  all 
that  could  be  found  of  the  Hebrew  nation  or  faith  was 
now  for  the  second  time  extirpated,  as  nearly  as  it 
is  possible  to  extirpate  what  conscience  refuses  to  give 
up,  and  fear  and  hatred  have  so  many  ways  to  hide. 
But  some  men  of  letters  — like  Belando,  who  wrote  a 
civil  history  of  part  of  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth, 
which  he  dedicated  to  that  monarch,  and  which  bore  on 
its  pages  all  the  regular  permissions  to  be  printed  — 
were  punished  without  the  pretence  of  being  guilty  of 
heresy  or  unbelief;  and  many  more  disappeared  from 
society,  who,  like  Macanaz,  were  known  to  entertain 
political  opinions  offensive  to  the  Church  or  the  govern- 
ment, but  of  whom  nothing  else  was  known  that  could 
render  them  obnoxious  to  censure.  On  the  whole, 
therefore,  down  to  the  death  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  the  old 
alliance  between  the  government  of  the  state  and  the 
power  of  the  Church  — an  alliance  supported  by  the 
general  assent  of  the  people  — must  still  be  assumed  to 
have  continued  unbroken,  and  its  authority  must  still 


Chap.  III.] 


FERDINAND  THE  SIXTH. 


249 


be  felt  to  have  been  sufficient  to  control  all  freedom  of 
discussion,  and  elfectually  to  check  and  silence  such 
intellectual  activity  as  it  deemed  dangerous.^ 

In  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  the  Sixth,  "which  lasted  thir- 
teen years,  and  ended  in  1759,  there  is  evidently  an  im- 
provement in  this  state  of  things.  The  seeds  sown  in 
the  time  of  his  father,  if  less  cared  for  and  cultivated 
than  they  should  have  been,  were  beginning  to  germinate 
and  disencumber  themselves  from  the  cold  and  hard  soil 
into  which  they  had  been  cast.  Foreign  intercourse, 
especially  that  with  France,  brought  in  new  ideas..  Fer- 
reras,  the  careful,  but  dull,  annalist  of  his  country’s  his- 
tory; Juan  de  Yriarte,  the  active  head  of  the  Royal 
Library;  Bayer,  his  learned  successor ; Mayans,  who  had 
a passion  for  collecting  and  editing  books ; and,  above 
all,  the  wise  and  modest  Father  Feyjoo,  had  not  labored 
in  vain,  and  still  survived  to  see  the  results  of  their  toils. 

The  Church  itself  began  slowly  to  acknowledge  the 
irresistible  power  of  advancing  intelligence,  and  the  In- 
quisition, without  acknowledging  it,  felt  its  influence. 
Not  more  than  ten  persons  were  burnt  alive  in  the  time 
of  Ferdinand  the  Sixth,  and  these  were  obscure  relapsed 
Jews ; — men  whose  fate  is  as  heavy  a reproach  to 
the  Inquisition  as  if  they  had  been  more  intelligent 
and  distinguished,  but  the  example  of  whose  punish- 
ment did  not  strike  a terror  such  as  that  of  the  dying 
Protestants  and  patriots  of  Aragon  had  once  done. 

3 Llorente,  Hist.,  Tom.  II.  pp.  420,  and  that  eleven  thousand  nine  hundred 
424,  Tom.  IV.  p.  31.  The  data  of  and  ninety-eight  more  were  subjected 
Llorente  are  not  so  precise  as  they  to  degrading  punishments,  making  a 
ought  to  be,  but  any  thing  approach-  grand  total  of  fourteen  thousand  three 
ing  his  results  is  of  most  fearful  im-  hundred  and  sixty-four  victims,  of 
port.  In  a pamphlet,  however,  print-  which  the  fifteen  hundred  and  seventy- 
ed  in  1817,  (as  he  declares  in  his  An-  eight  burnt  alive  must  all  have  perish- 
tobiography,  p.  170,)  he  asserts  that,  ed  between  1680  and  1781,  when,  as 
between  1680  and  1808,  there  perish-  we  shall  see  in  the  next  chapter,  the 
ed  in  the  fires  of  the  Inquisition  fifteen  last  victim  was  immolated, 
hundred  and  seventy-eight  persons, 

VOL.  III.  32 


250 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


The  persecutions  of  the  Holy  Office,  in  fact,  not  only 
grew  less  frequent  and  cruel,  but  became  more  than 
ever  subservient  to  the  political  authority  of  the  coun- 
try, and  were  now  chiefly  exercised  in  relation  to  Free- 
masonry, which  was  known  at  this  period  in  Spain  for 
the  first  time,  and  caused  much  uneasiness  to  the  gov- 
ernment. But  the  policy  of  the  state,  during  the  reign 
of  Ferdinand  the  Sixth,  was  in  the  main  peaceful  and 
healing.  Efforts,  not  without  success,  were  made  to 
collect  materials  for  a history  of  the  country  from  the 
earliest  times.  Spaniards  were  sent  abroad  to  he  edu- 
cated at  the  public  expense,  and  foreigners  were  en- 
couraged to  establish  themselves  in  Spain,  and  to  dif- 
fuse the  knowledge  they  had  acquired  in  their  own 
more  favored  homes.  Every  thing,  in  short,  indicated 
a spirit  of  change,  if  it  did  not  give  proof  of  much 
absolute  progress.^ 

The  direction  of  the  literature  of  the  country,  however,^ 
was  the  same  it  had  taken  from  the  beginning  of  the 
century.  Slight,  but  unsatisfactory,  attempts  continued 
to  be  made  to  adhere  to  the  forms  of  the  elder  time ; — 
such  attempts  as  are  to  be  seen  in  a long  narrative  poem 
by  the  Count  Salduena  on  the  subject  of  Pelayo,  and 
two  very  poor  imitations  of  the  “Para  Todos”  of  Mon- 
talvan,  one  of  which  was  by  Moraleja,  and  the  other  by 
Ortiz.  But  the  amount  of  what  was  undertaken  in  this 
way  was  very  small,  and  the  impulse  was  constantly 
diminishing ; for  the  French  school  enjoyed  now  all  the 

favor  that  was  given  to  any  form  of  elegant  literature.® 

• 

Noticia  del  Viage  de  Espana  de  las  Varillas,  Conde  de  Saldueila,” 
hecha  de  Orden  del  Rey,  por  L.  J.  etc.,  (Madrid,  1754,  4to,)  twelve  can- 
Velazquez,  Madrid,  1765,  4to,  pas-  tos  in  octave  stanzas,  written  in  the 
sim.  Llorente,  Tom.  IV.  p.  51.  most  affected  style. — Joseph  Morale- 
Tapia,  Tom.  IV.  p.  73.  ja,  “ El  Entretenido,  Segunda  Parte” 

5 “ El  Pelayo,  Poema  de  D.  Alonso  (Madrid,  1741,  4to)  ; a continuation  of 
de  Solis  Folch  de  Cardona  Rodriguez  the  Entretenido  of  Sanchez  Tortoles, 


Chap.  III.] 


VELAZQUEZ. 


251 


In  this  respect,  a fashionable  society,  called  The 
Academy  of  Good  Taste,  and  connected  with  the  court 
of  Madrid,  exercised  some  influence.  It  dates  from 
1749,  and  was  intended,  perhaps,  to  resemble  those 
French  coteries,  which  began  in  the  reign  of  Louis  the 
Thirteenth,  at  the  Hotel  de  Kambouillet,  and  were  long 
so  important  both  in  the  literary  and  political  history 
of  France.  The  Countess  of  Lemos,  at  whose  house 
it  met,  was  its  founder,  and  it  gradually  ranked  among 
its  members  several  of  the  more  cultivated  nobility  and 
most  of  the  leading  men  of  letters,  such  as  Luzan,  Mon- 
tiano.  Bias  Nasarre,  and  Velazquez,  each  of  Avhom  was 
known,  either  at  that  time  or  soon  afterwards,  by  his 
published  works.'' 

Except  Luzan,  of  whom  we  have  already  spoken,  Ve- 
lazquez was  the  most  distinguished  of  their  number. 
He  was  descended  from  an  old  and  noble  family,  in  the 
South  of  Spain,  and  was  born  in  1722;  but,  from  his 
position  in  society,  he  passed  most  of  his  life  at  court. 
There  he  became  involved  in  the  political  troubles  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Third,  in  consequence  of  which 
he  suffered  a long  imprisonment  from  1766  to  1772,  and 
died  of  apoplexy  the  same  year  he  was  released. 

Velazquez  was  a man  of  talent  and  industry,  rather 
than  a man  of  genius.  He  was  a member,  not  only  of 
the  principal  Spanish  academies,  but  of  the  French 
Academy  of  Inscriptions  and  Belles  Lettres,  and  wrote 
several  works  of  learning  relating  to  the  literature  and 
antiquities  of  his  country.  The  only  one  of  them  now 

containing  the  amusements  of  a society  gres  ” of  Isidro  Fr.  Ortiz  Gallardo  de 

of  friends  for  four  days;  entrerneses,  Villaroel,  (Salamanca,  1758,  4to,)  is 

stories,  odds  and  ends  of  poetry,  astro-  a shorter  book,  and  nearly  all  in  verse, 

nomical  calculations,  etc.,  a strange  Both  are  worthless. 

and  absurd  mixture.  Baena  (Hijos  6 Luzan,  Arte  Poetica,  ed.  1789, 

de  Madrid,  Toni.  III.  p.  81)  has  a life  Tom.  I.  pp.  xix.,  etc. 

of  the  author.  The  “ Noches  Ale- 


252  ■ 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


much  valued  was  published  in  1754,  under  the  title  of 
“ Sources  of  Castilian  Poetry,”  of  which  it  is,  in  fact,  a 
history,  coming  down  to  his  own  times,  or  near  to  them. 
It  is  a slight  work,  confused  in  its  arrangement,  and  too 
short  to  develope  its  subject  satisfactorily;  but  it  is  writ- 
ten in  a good  style,  and  occasionally  shows  acuteness 
in  its  criticism  of  individual  authors.  Its  chief  fault  is, 
that  it  is  devoted  to  the  French  school,  and  is  an  at- 
tempt to  carry  out,  by  means  of  an  historical  discussion, 
the  doctrines  laid  down  nearly  twenty  years  before  by 
Luzan,  in  his  theory  of  poetical  composition.’^ 

Mayans,  a Valencian  gentleman  of  learning,  and  an- 
other of  those  who  had  a considerable  influence  on 
Spanish  literature  at  this  period,  followed  a similar 
course  in  his  “Retorica,”  which  appeared  in  1757, 
and  is  founded  rather  on  the  philosophical  opinions  of 
the  Roman  rhetoricians  than  on  the  modiflcation  of 
those  opinions  by  Boileau  and  his  followers.  It  is  a 
long  and  very  cumbrous  work,  less  fitted  to  the  wants 
of  the  times  than  that  of  Luzan,  and  even  more  opposed 
to  the  old  Castilian  spirit,  which  submitted  so  unwil- 
lingly to  rules  of  any  sort.  But  it  is  a storehouse  of 
curious  extracts  from  authors  belonging  to  the  best  pe- 
riod of  Spanish  literature,  almost  always  selected  with 
good  judgment,  if  not  always  skilfully  applied  to  the 
matter  under  discussion.® 

To  these  works  of  Mayans,  Velazquez,  and  Luzan 


7 Luis  Joseph  Velazquez,  “ Orige- 
nes  de  la  Poesia  Castellana,”  Malaga, 
1754,  4to,  pp.  175.  J.  A.  Dieze, 
who  was  a Professor  at  Gottingen, 
and  died  in  1785,  published  a Ger- 
man translation  of  it  in  1769,  with 
copious  and  excellent  notes,  which 
more  than  double,  not  only  the  size  of 
the  original  work,  but  its  value.  The 
Life  of  Velazquez,  who  was  Marquis  of 
Valdeflores,  though  he  does  not  gener- 


ally allude  to  his  title  in  his  printed 
works,  is  to  be  found  in  Sempere  y 
Guarinos,  Bib.,  Tom.  VI.  p.  139. 

8 Gregorio  hlayans  y Siscar,  who 
wrote  and  edited  a great  many  books 
in  Latin  and  Spanish,  was  born  in 
1699,  and  died  in  1782.  His  life  and 
a list  of  his  works  may  be  made  out 
from  the  united  accounts  of  Ximeno, 
Tom.  11.  p.  324,  and  Fuster,  Tom.  II. 
p.  98. 


Chap.  III.] 


BLAS  NASARRE. 


253 


should  be  added  the  Preface  by  Nasarre  to  the  plays 
of  Cervantes,  in  1749,  where  an  attempt  is  made  to 
take  the  authority  of  his  great  name  from  the  school 
that  prevailed  in  his  time,  by  showing  that  these  unsuc- 
cessful efforts  of  the  author  of  “ Don  Quixote  ” were 
only  caricatures  ridiculing  Lope  de  Vega;  not  dramatic 
compositions  intended  for  serious  success  in  the  extrav- 
agant career  which  Lope’s  versatile  genius  had  opened 
to  his  contemporaries.  But  this  attempt  was  a failure, 
and  was  only  one  of  a long  series  of  efforts  made  to 
discountenance  the  old  theatre,  that  must  be  noticed 
hereafter.^ 

9 There  was  a severe  answer  made  Critico,”  etc.,  (4to,  1750,  pp.  258,) 
at  once  to  Bias  Nasarre,  by  Don  Joseph  which  is  a general,  loose  defence  of 
Carrillo,  entitled  “ Sin  Razon  impug-  Lope  and  his  school.  But  neither 
nada,”  4to,  1750,  pp.  25  ; besides  w'as  needed.  The  theory  of  Nasarre 
which,  his  Preface  was  attacked  by  was  too  absurd  to  win  adherents. 

Don  T.  Zabaleta,  in  his  “ Discurso 


V 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Slow  Progress  of  Culture.  — Charles  tpie  Third  and  his  Policy. — 
IsLA. — Ills  Friar  Gerund.  — IIis  Cicero.  — IIis  Gil  Blas. — Efforts 
TO  restore  the  Old  School  of  Poetry.  — Huerta.  — Sedano.  — 
Sanchez.  — Sarmiento. — Efforts  to  introduce  the  French  School. 
— Moratin  the  Elder  and  his  Club.  — Cadahalso,  Yriarte,  Sama- 
niego,  Arroyal,  Montengon,  Salas,  Meras,  Norona. 


The  reign  of  Ferdinand  the  Sixth,  which  had  been 
marked  with  little  political  energy  during  its  continu- 
ance, was  saddened,  at  its  close,  by  the  death  of  the 
monarch  from  grief  at  the  loss  of  his  queen.  But  it 
had  not  been  Avithout  beneficial  influences  on  the  coun- 
try. A Avise  economy  had  been  introduced,  for  the  first 
time  since  the  discovery  of  America,  into  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  state ; the  abused  poAvers  of  the  Churcli 
had  been  diminished  by  a concordat  Avith  the  Pope ; 
the  progress  of  knowledge  had  been  furthered ; and 
Father  Feyjoo,  vigorous,  though  old,  Avas  still  permit- 
ted, if  not  encouraged,  to  go  on  Avith  his  great  task,  and 
create  a school  that  should  rest  on  the  broad  principles 
of  philosophy  recognized  in  England  and  in  France. 

We  must  not,  however,  be  misled  by  such  general 
statements.  iSpain,  notAvithstanding  half  a century  of 
advancement,  was  still  deplorably  behind  the  other- 
countries  of  Western  Europe  in  that  intellectual  culti- 
vation, without  Avhich  no  nation  in  modern  times  can 
be  prosperous,  strong,  or  honored.  “ There  is  not,” 
says  the  Marquis  of  Ensenada,  in  a report  made  to  the 
king,  as  minister  of  state,  — “ there  is  not  a professorship 


Chap.  IV.J 


CHARLES  TPIE  THIRD. 


255 


of  public  law,  of  experimental  science,  of  anatomy,  or 
of  botany,  in  the  kingdom.  We  have  no  exact  geo- 
graphical maps  of  the  country  or  its  provinces,  nor  any 
body  who  can  make  them ; so  that  we  depend  on  the 
very  imperfect  maps  we  receive  from  France  and  Hol- 
land, and  are  shamefully  ignorant  of  the  true  relations 
and  distances  of  our  OAvn  towns.”  ^ 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  accession  of  a prince 
like  Charles  the  Thu’d  was  eminently  fortunate  for  the 
country.  He  was  a man  of  energy  and  discernment,  a 
Spaniard  by  birth  and  character,  but  one  whom  political 
connections  had  placed  early  on  the  throne  of  Naples, 
where,  during  a reign  of  twenty-four  years,  he  had  done 
much  to  restore  the  dignity  of  a decayed  monarchy,  and 
had  learned  much  of  the  condition  of  Europe  outside  of 
the  Pyrenees.  ^Vlien,  therefore,  the  death  of  his  half- 
brother  called  him  to  the  throne  of  Spain,  he  came  with 
a kind  and  degree  of  experience  in  affairs  which  fitted 
him  well  for  his  duties  in  the  more  important  and  more 
unfortunate  kingdom,  whose  destinies  he  was  to  con- 
trol for  above  a quarter  of  a century.  Happily,  he 
seems  to  have  comprehended  his  position  from  the  first, 
and  to  have  understood  that  he  was  called  to  a great 


1 Tapia,  Historia,  Tom.  IV.  c.  15. 

Many  of  the  best  materials  for  the 
state  of  culture  in  Spain,  during-  the 
reign  of  Charles  III.,  are  to  be  found 
in  the  “ Biblioteca  de  los  IMejores 
Escritores  del  Reynado  de  Carlos  III., 
por  Juan  Sempere  y Guarinos,”  Ma- 
drid, 1785  - 89,  6 tom.  8vo.  When  the 
author . published  it,  he  was  about 
thirty-five  years  old,  having  been  born 
in  1754  ; but  he  was  afterwards  much 
more  distinguished  as  a political 
writer,  by  his  “ Observaciones  sobre 
las  Cortes,”  (1810,)  his  “Historia 
de  las  Cortes,”  (1815,)  and  other 
labors  of  the  same  kind.  His  first 
acknowledged  work  was  a free  trans- 


lation, from  Dluratori,  of  an  essay,  with 
additions,  which  he  printed  at  Ma- 
drid. in  1783,  in  12mo,  with  the  title, 
“ Sobre  el  Buen  Gusto,”  and  wdiieh 
he  accompanied  by  an  original  tract, 
“ Sobre  el  Buen  Gusto  actual  de  los 
Espaiioles  en  la  Literatura,”  — the 
Last  being  afterwards  prefixed,  with 
alterations,  to  his  “ Biblioteca.”  He 
was  a diligent  and  useful  writer,  and 
died,  I believe,  in  1824.  A small 
volume,  containing  notices  of  his  life 
to  the  time  when  it  appeared,  prob- 
ably derived  from  materials  furnished 
by  himself,  was  printed  at  Madrid,  by 
Amarita,  in  1821,  12mo. 


256  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

work  of  reform  and  regeneration,  where  his  chief  con- 
test was  to  be  with  ecclesiastical  abuses. 

In  some  respects  he  was  successful.  His  ministers, 
Roda,  Florida-Blanca,  Aranda,  and  Campomanes,  were 
men  of  ability.  By  their  suggestions  and  assistance, 
he  abridged  the  Papal  power  so  far,  that  no  rescript  or 
edict  from  Rome  could  have  force  in  Spain  without  the 
expressed  assent  of  the  throne;  he  restrained  the  In- 
quisition from  exercising  any  authority  whatever,  ex- 
cept in  cases  of  obstinate  heresy  or  apostasy ; he  forbade 
the  condemnation  of  any  book,  till  its  author,  or  those 
interested  in  it,  had  had  an  opportunity  to  be  heard  in 
its  defence ; and,  finally,  deeming  the  Jesuits  the  most 
active  opponents  of  the  reforms  he  endeavoured  to  in- 
troduce, he,  in  one  day,  expelled  their  whole  body  froih 
his  dominions  all  over  the  world,  breaking  up  their 
schools  and  confiscating  their  great  revenues.^  At  the 
same  time,  he  caused  improved  plans  of  study  to  be 
suggested;  he  made  arrangements  for  popular  educa- 
tion, such  as  were  before  unknown  in  Spain;  and  he 
raised  the  tone  of  instruction  and  the  modes  of  teach- 
ing in  the  few  higher  institutions  over  which  he  could 
lawfully  extend  his  control. 

But  many  abuses  were  beyond  his  reach.  When  he 
appealed  to  the  Universities,  urging  them  to  change 
their  ancient  habits,  and  teach  the  truths  of  the  physical 
and  exact  sciences,  Salamanca  answered,  in  1771,  “ New- 
ton teaches  nothing  that  would  make  a good  logician 
or  metaphysician,  and  Gassendi  and  Descartes  do  not 
agree  so  well  with  revealed  truth  as  Aristotle  does.” 
And  the  other  Universities  showed  little  more  of  the 
spirit  of  advancement. 

2 Lloreate,  Hist,  de  I’Inquisition,  Tom.  IV.  Doblado’s  Letters,  1822, 
Appendix  to  Letters  III.  and  VII. 


Chap.  IV.] 


REFORMS  ATTEMPTED. 


257 


With  the  Inquisition  his  success  was  far  from  being- 
complete.  His  authority  was  resisted,  as  far  as  resist- 
ance was  possible ; but  the  progress  of  intelligence  made 
all  bigotry  every  year  less  active  and  formidable;  and, 
whether  it  be  an  honor  to  his  reign,  or  whether  it  be  a 
disgrace,  it  is  to  be  recorded,  that  the  last  person  who 
perished  at  the  stake  in  Spain,  by  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority, was  an  unfortunate  woman,  who  was  burnt 
at  Seville  for  witchcraft  in  1781.^ 

Under  the  influence  of  a spirit  like  that  of  Charles 
the  Third,  during  a reign  protracted  to  twenty-nine  years, 
there  was  a new  and  considerable  advancement  in  what- 
ever tends  to  make  life  desirable,  of  which  the  country 
on  aU  sides  gave  token.  The  population,  which  had 
fled  or  died  away,  seemed  to  spring  up  afresh  in  places 
that  oppression  had  made  desert,  and  having  regained 
something  under  the  flrst  of  the  Bourbons,  it  now,  un- 
der the  third,  recovered  rapidly  the  numbers  it  had  lost 
in  the  days  of  the  House  of  Austria,  by  wars  all  over 
the  world,  by  emigration,  by  the  persecution  of  the  Jews 
and  the  expulsion  of  the  Moriscos,  by  bad  legislation, 
and  by  the  cruel  spirit  of  religious  intolerance.  The 
revenues  in  the  same  period  were  increased  threefold, 
without  adding  to  the  burdens  of  the  people;  and  the 
country  seemed  to  be  brought  from  a state  of  absolute 
bankruptcy  to  one  of  comparative  ease  and  prosperity. 
It  was  certain,  therefore,  that  Spain  was  not  falling  to 
ruin,  as  it  had  been  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second.^ 

3 Sempere  y Guarinos,  Bibliot.,  When  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  came 

Tom.  IV.,  Art.  Planes  de  Estudios.  to  the  throne,  Spain  counted  ten  and 
Tapia,  Tom.  IV.  c.  16.  Llorente,  a half  millions  of  souls ; at  the  time 
Tom.  IV.  p.  270.  The  Marquis  de  of  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  it  counted 
Langle,  in  his  “ Voyage  d’Espagne,”  but  seven  millions  and  a half;  a mon- 
(s.  1.  1785,  12mo,  p.  45,)  says  the  poor  strous  falling  off,  if  we  consider  the 
woman  burnt  at  Seville  was  “jeune  advancement  of  the  rest  of  Europe 
et  belle.”  during  the  same  period. 

4 Tapia,  Tom.  IV.  pp.  124,  etc. 

VOL.  III.  33  Y* 


258 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


But  all  intellectual  cultivation  is  slow  of  growth,  and 
all  intellectual  reform  still  slower.  The  life  and  health 
infused  into  the  country  were,  no  doubt,  felt  in  every 
part  of  its  physical  system,  reviving  and  renewing  the 
powers  that  had  been  so  long  wasted  away,  and  that  at 
one  period  had  seemed  near  to  speedy  dissolution.  But 
it  was  obvious,  that  much  time  must  still  elapse  before 
such  healthful  circulations  could  reach  the  national  cul- 
ture generally,  and  a still  longer  time  before  they  could 
revive  that  elegant  literature,  which  is  the  bright,  con- 
summate flower^  of  all  true  civilization.  Yet  life  was 
beginning  to  be  seen.  It  was  a dawn,  if  it  was  noth- 
ing more. 

The  first  striking  effect  produced  by  this  movement 
in  the  reigns  of  Ferdinand  the  Sixth  and  Charles  the 
Third  was  one  quite  in  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  the 
nation,  then  resisting  the  ecclesiastical  abuses  that  had 
so  long  oppressed  it.  It  was  an  attack  on  the  style 
of  popular  preaching,  which,  originally  corrupted  by 
Paravicino,  the  distinguished  follower  of  Gongora,  had 
been  constantly  falling  lower  and  lower,  until,  at  last,  it 
seemed  to  have  reached  the  lowest  point  of  degradation 
and  vulgarity.  The  assailant  was  Father  Isla,  who  was 
horn  in  1703  and  died  in  1781,  at  Bologna,  where, 
being  a Jesuit,  he  had  retired,  on  the  general  expulsion 
of  his  Order  from  Spain.®  His  earliest  published  work 
is  his  “Triumph  of  Youth,”  printed  in  1727,  to  give 
the  nation  an  account  of  a festival,  celebrated  that  year 
during  eleven  days  at  Salamanca,  in  honor  of  two  very 
youthful  saints  who  had  been  Jesuits,  and  who  had  just 
been  canonized  by  Benedict  the  Thirteenth ; a gay  tract, 
full  of  poems,  farces,  and  accounts  of  the  maskings  and 


5 Vida  de  J.  F.  de  Isla,  por  J.  I.  de  Salas,  Madrid,  1803,  12mo. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA. 


259 


bullfights  to  which  the  occasion  had  given  rise,  and 
coming  as  near  as  possible  to  open  satire  of  the  whole 
matter,  but  yet  with  great  adroitness  avoiding  it. 

In  a work  somewhat  similar,  he  afterwards  went 
further.  It  was  a description  of  the  proclamation  made 
in  1746,  at  Pamplona,  on  the  accession  of  Ferdinand 
the  Sixth,  which  was  attended  with  such  extravagant 
and  idle  ceremonies,  that,  being  required  to  give  some 
account  of  them  to  the  public,  he  could  not  refrain 
from  mdulging  in  his  love  of  ridicule.  But  he  did  it 
with  a satire  so  delicate  and  so  crafty,  that  those  who 
were  its  subjects  failed  at  first  to  apprehend  his  real 
purpose.  On  the  contrary,  the  Council  of  the  proud 
capital  of  Navarre  thanked  him  for  the  honor  he  had 
done  them;  the  Bishop  and  Archbishop  complimented 
him  for  it ; several  persons  whom  he  had  particularly 
noticed  sent  him  presents ; and,  when  the  irony  began 
to  be  suspected,  it  became  a subject  of  public  contro- 
versy, as  in  the  case  of  De  Foe’s  “ Shortest  Way  with 
the  Dissenters,”  whether  the  praise  bestowed  were  in 
jest  or  in  earnest ; — Isla  all  the  time  defending  himself 
with  admirable  ingenuity  and  wit,  as  if  he  were  per- 
sonally aggrieved  at  the  unfavorable  construction  put 
upon  his  compliments.  The  discussion  ended  with  his 
retreat  or  exile  from  Pamplona.® 

He  was,  however,  at  this  period  of  his  life  occupied 
with  more  serious  duties,  and  soon  found  among  them 
a higher  mark  for  his  wit.  From  the  age  of  twenty- 
four  he  had  been  a successful  preacher,  and  continued 
such  until  he  was  cruelly  expelled  from  his  ovm  coun- 
try. But  he  perceived  how  little  worthy  of  its  great 
subjects  was  the  prevalent  style  of  Spanish  pulpit  ora- 

6 Juventud  Triunfante,  Salamanca,  2a  ed.,  Madrid,  1746,  4to.  Sema- 
1727,  4to.  Dia  Grande  de  Navarra,  nario  Pintoresco,  1840,  p.  130. 


260  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

tory, — how  milch  it  was  degraded  by  bad  taste,  by  tricks 
of  composition,  by  conceits  and  puns,  and  even  by  a low 
buffoonery,  in  which  the  vulgar  monks,  sent  to  preach 
in  the  churches  or  in  the  public  streets  and  squares,  in- 
dulged themselves  merely  to  win  applause  from  equally 
vulgar  audiences,  and  increase  the  contributions  they 
solicited  by  arts  so  discreditable.  It  is  said  that  at  first 
Father  Isla  was  swept  away  by  the  current  of  his  times, 
which  ran  with  extraordinary  force,  and  that  he  wrote, 
in  some  degree,  as  others  did.  But  he  soon  recognized 
his  mistake,  and  his  numerous  published  sermons,  writ- 
ten between  1729  and  1754,  are  marked  with  a purity 
and  directness  of  style  which  had  long  been  unknown, 
and  which,  though  wanting  the  richness  and  fervor  of 
the  exhortations  of  Luis  de  Leon  and  Luis  de  Granada, 
would  not  have  dishonored  the  Spanish  pulpit  even  in 
their  days.’^ 

Isla,  however,  was  not  satisfied  with  merely  setting  a 
good  example.  He  determined  to  make  a direct  attack 
on  the  abuse  itself  For  this  purpose,  he  wrote  what 
he  called  “ The  History  of  the  Famous  Preacher,  Friar 
Gerund”;  a satirical  romance,  in  which  he  describes 
the  life  of  one  of  these  popular  orators,  from  his  birth 
in  an  obscure  village,  through  his  education  in  a fash- 
ionable convent,  and  his  adventures  as  a missionary 
about  the  country ; the  fiction  ending  abruptly  with  his 
preparation  to  deliver  a course  of  sermons  in  a city  that 
seems  intended  to  represent  Madrid.  It  is  written 
throughout  with  great  spirit;  and  not  only  are  the 
national  manners  and  character  everywhere  present, 
but,  in  the  episodes  and  in  the  occasional  sketches  Isla 

Vida  de  Isla,  ^ 3.  Sermones,  men  as  early  as  1680,  when  Madame 
Madrid,  1792-93,  6 tom.  8vo.  Vul-  d’Aulnoy  was  in  Spain.  Voyage, 
gar  preaching  in  the  streets  was  com-  ed.  1693,  Tom.  II.  p.  168. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA. 


261 


has  given  of  conventual  and  religious  life  in  his  time, 
there  is  an  air  of  reality  which  leaves  no  doubt  that 
the  author  drew  freely  on  the  resources  of  his  personal 
experience.  Its  plan  resembles  slightly  that  of  “ Don 
Quixote,”  but  its  execution  reminds  us  oftener  of 
Rabelais  and  his  discursive  and  redundant  reflections, 
though  of  Rabelais  without  his  coarseness.  It  is  serious, 
as  becomes  the  Spanish  character,  and  conceals  under 
its  gravity  a spirit  of  sarcasm,  which,  in  other  countries, 
seems  inconsistent  with  the  idea  of  dignity,  but  which, 
in  Spain,  has  been  more  than  once  happily  united  with 
it,  and  made  more  effective  by  the  union. 

The  sketches  of  character  and  specimens  of  fashion- 
able pulpit  oratory  given  in  the  “ Friar  Gerund  ” are 
the  best  parts  of  it,  and  are  agreeable  illustrations  for 
the  literary  history  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Of 
the  preacher  whom  the  Friar  took  for  his  model  we 
have  the  follomng  carefully  drawm  portrait : — 

“He  was  in  the  fidl  perfection  of  his  strength,  just 
about  three-and-thirty  years  old ; tall,  robust,  and  stout ; 
his  limbs  well  set  and  well  proportioned ; manly  in  gait, 
inclining  to  corpulence,  with  an  erect  carriage  of  his 
head,  and  the  circle  of  hair  round  his  tonsure  studious- 
ly and  exactly  combed  and  shaven.  His  clerical  dress 
was  always  neat,  and  fell  round  his  person  in  ample 
and  regular  folds.  His  shoes  fitted  him  with  the  great- 
est nicety,  and,  above  all,  his  silken  cap  was  adorned 
with  much  curious  embroidery  and  a fanciful  tassel,  — 
the  work  of  certain  female  devotees  who  were  dying 
with  admiration  of  their  favorite  preacher.  In  short, 
he  had  a very  youthful,  gallant  look;  and,  adding  to 
this  a clear,  rich  voice,  a slight  fashionable  lisp,  a pe- 
culiar grace  in  telling  a story,  a talent  at  mimicry,  an 
easy  action,  a taking  manner,  a high-sounding  style,  and 


262  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

not  a little  effrontery,  — never  forgetting  to  sprinkle 
jests,  proverbs,  and  homely  phrases  along  his  discourses 
with  a most  agreeable  aptness,  — he  won  golden  opin- 
ions in  his  public  discourses,  and  carried  every  thing  be- 
fore him  in  the  drawing-rooms  he  frequented.”® 

The  style  of  eloquence  of  this  vulgar  ecclesiastical 
fop,  a specimen  of  which  follows,  is  no  less  faithfully 
and  characteristically  given ; and  was  taken,  as  Father 
Isla  intimates  was  his  custom,  from  a discourse  that 
had  really  been  preached.® 

“ It  was  well  known,  that  he  always  began  his  ser- 
mons with  some  proverb,  some  jest,  some  pot-house  wit- 
ticism, or  some  strange  fragment,  which,  taken  from  its 
proper  connections  and  relations,  would  seem,  at  first 
blush,  to  be  an  inconsequence,  a blasphemy,  or  an  im- 
piety ; untn,  at  last,  having  kept  his  audience  waiting  a 
moment  in  wonder,  he  finished  the  clause,  or  came  out 
with  an  explanation  which  reduced  the  whole  to  a sort 
of  miserable  trifling.  Thus,  preaching  one  day  on  the 
mystery  of  the  Trinity,  he  began  his  sermon  by  saying, 
‘ I deny  that  God  exists  a Unity  in  essence  and  a Trinity 
in  person,’  and  then  stopped  short  for  an  instant.  The 
hearers,  of  course,  looked  round  on  one  another,  scan- 
dalized, or,  at  least,  wondering  what  would  be  the  end  of 
this  heretical  blasphemy.  At  length,  when  the  preacher 
thought  he  had  fairly  caught  them,  he  went  on,  — ‘Thus 
says  the  Ebionite,  the  Marcionite,  the  Arian,  the  Mani- 
chean,  the  Socinian;  but  I prove  it  against  them  all 
from  the  Scriptures,  the  Councils,  and  the  Fathers.’ 

® “ Historia  del  Famoso  Predicador,  but  which  is,  in  fact,  that  of  a friend. 
Fray  Gerundio  de  Campazas,”  Ma-  who  was  a parish  priest  at  Villagarcia, 
drid,  1813,  4 tom.  12mo,  Tom.  I.  p.  where  Father  Isla,  who  mentions  him 
307.  In  the  first  edition,  as  well  as  often  in  his  letters,  wrote  his  Friar 
in  several  other  editions,  it  is  said  to  Gerund. 

be  written  by  Francisco  Lohon  de  9 Cartas  Familiares,  1790,  Tom. 
Salazar,  a name  which  has  generally  VI.  p.  313. 
been  supposed  to  be  a fictitious  one  ; 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA. 


263 


“ In  another  sermon,  which  was  on  the  Incarnation, 
he  began  by  crying  out,  ‘Your  health,  cavaliers!’  and, 
as  the  audience  burst  into  a broad  laugh  at  the  free 
manner  in  which  he  had  said  it,  he  went  on : — ‘ This 
is  no  joking  matter,  however ; for  it  was  for  your  health 
and  for  mine,  and  for  that  of  all  men,  that  Christ  de- 
scended from  heaven  and  became  incarnate  in  the  Vir- 
gin Mary.  It  is  an  article  of  faith,  and  I prove  it  thus : 
“ Propter  nos,  homines,  et  nostrum  salutem  descendit  de 
coelo  et  incarnatus  est,”  ’ — whereat  they  all  remained 
in  delighted  astonishment,  and  such  a murmur  of  ap- 
plause ran  round  the  church,  that  it  wanted  little  of 
breaking  out  into  open  acclamation.” 

The  first  volume  of  the  “ Friar  Gerund  ” was  printed 
in  1758,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  author,  and  in 
twenty-four  hours  eight  hundred  copies  of  it  were  sold." 
Such  an  extraordinary  popularity,  however,  proved  any 
thing  but  a benefit.  The  priests,  and  especially  the 
preaching  friars,  assailed  it  from  all  quarters,  as  the 
most  formidable  attack  yet  made  in  Spain  on  their  pe- 
culiar craft.  The  consequence  was,  that,  though  the 
king  and  the  court  expressed  their  delight  in  its  satire, 
the  license  to  publish  it  further  was  withdrawn,  its  au- 
thor was  summoned  before  the  Inquisition,  and  his  book 
was  condemned  in  1760.  But  Isla  was  too  strong  in 
public  favor  and  in  the  respect  of  the  Jesuits  to  be 
personally  punished,  and  the  Friar  Gerund  was  too  true 
and  too  widely  scattered  to  be  more  than  nominally 
suppressed.^^ 


10  Fray  Gerundio,  Tom.  I.  p.  309. 
'1  Cartas  Familiares,  Tom.  II.  p. 
170. 

12  Vida  de  Isla,  p.  63.  Llorente, 
Hist.,  Tom.  II.  p.  450.  Cartas  Fami- 
liares de  Isla,  Tom.  II.  pp.  168,  etc., 
and  Tom.  III.  p.  213.  There  are 


several  amusing  letters  about  Fray 
Gerundio  in  the  second  volume  of  the 
Cartas  Familiares.  The  Inquisition 
(Index,  1790)  not  only  forbade  the 
work  itself,  but  forbade  any  body  to 
publish  any  thing  for  or  against  it. 


264 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


The  second  volume  did  not  fare  so  well.  After  the 
censure  passed  on  the  first,  it  could  not,  of  course,  be 
licensed,  and  so  remained  for  a long  time  in  manuscript, 
a forbidden  book.  In  fact,  it  first  appeared  in  England, 
and  in  the  English  language,  in  1772,  through  the  agen- 
cy of  Baretti,  to  whom  the  original  had  been  sent  after 
its  author  had  gone  to  Italy.  But  an  edition  of  the 
whole  work  in  Spanish  soon  appeared  at  Bayonne,  fol- 
lowed by  other  editions  in  other  places ; and,  though  it 
was  never  licensed  at  home  till  1813, — and  then  only  to 
be  forbidden  anew  the  next  year,  on  the  return  of  Fer- 
dinand the  Seventh,  — still  few  books  have  been  better 
known,  all  over  Spain,  to  the  more  intelligent  classes 
of  the  Spanish  people,  than  Friar  Gerund,  from  the  day 
of  its  first  publication  to  the  present  time.  What  is  of 
more  consequence,  it  was,  from  the  first,  successful  in  its 
main  purpose.  The  sobriquet  of  Friar  Gerund  was  given 
at  once  to  those  who  indulged  in  the  vulgar  style  of 
preaching  it  was  intended  to  discountenance,  and  any 
one  who  was  admitted  to  deserve  the  appellation  could 
no  longer  collect  an  audience,  except  such  as  was  gath- 
ered from  the  populace  of  the  public  squares.'^ 

In  consequence  of  the  alarm  and  anxieties  that  ac- 
companied his  sudden  and  violent  expulsion  from  Spain, 
in  1767,  Father  Isla  suffered  on  the  road  an  attack  of 
paralysis,  which  made  his  health  uncertain  for  the  re- 
maining fourteen  years  of  his  life.  Still,  after  his  death, 
it  was  found  that  in  these  sad  years  he  had  not  been 
idle.  Among  his  papers  was  a poem  in  sixteen  cantos, 
containing  above  twelve  thousand  lines  in  octave  stanzas. 
It  is  called  “ Cicero,”  and  claims  to  be  a life  of  the  great 

13  Watt,  Bibliotheca,  art.  Isla.  als  for  Printing-  the  Translation  of 
Wieland,  Teutsche  Merkur,  1773,  Friar  Gerund,  prefixed  to  that  work, 
Tom.  III.  p.  196.  Baretti’s  Propos-  London,  1772,  2 tom.  8vo. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA. 


265 


Roman  orator.  But  it  is  no  such  thing.  It  is  a satire 
on  the  vices  and  follies  of  the  author’s  own  time,  begmr 
in  Spain,  but  chiefly  Avritten  during  his  exile  in  Italy ; 
and,  though  it  contains  occasional  sketches  of  an  imagi- 
nary life  of  Cicero’s  mother,  they  are  very  inconsid- 
erable, and,  as  for  Cicero  himself,  the  poem  leaves  him 
in  his  cradle,  only  eighteen  months  old. 

One  of  the  subjects  of  its  satire  is  the  whole  class 
of  Spanish  narrative  poems,  of  Avhich,  and  especially 
of  those  devoted  to  the  lives  of  the  saints,  it  may  be 
regarded  as  a sort  of  parody ; but  its  main  purpose  is 
to  ridicule  the  lives  of  modern  fine  ladies,  and  the  modes 
of  early  education  then  prevalent.  The  whole,  how- 
ever, is  mingled  with  inappropriate  discussions  about 
Italy,  poetry,  and  a country  life,  and  hardly  less  inap- 
propriate satire  of  professed  musicians,  theatres,  and 
poets  who  praise  one  another;  in  short,  with  what- 
ever occurred  to  Father  Isla’s  wayward  humor  as  he 
was  writing.  From  internal  evidence,  it  seems  to  have 
been  read,  from  time  to  time  as  it  was  written,  to  a 
society  of  friends,  — probably  some  of  the  numerous 
exiles  who,  like  himself,  liad  resorted  to  Bologna,  and 
subsisted  there  on  the  miserable  pittance  the  Spanish 
government  promised  them,  but  often  failed  to  pay. 
For  such  a purpose  it  Avas  not  ill  adapted  by  its  clear, 
floAving  style,  and  occasionally  by  its  pungent  satire ; 
but  its  cumbrous  length  and  endless  digressions,  often 
trifling  both  in  matter  and  manner,  render  it  quite 
unfit  for  publication.  It  Avas,  hoAvever,  offered  to  the 
public  censor,  and  permission  to  print  it  Avas  refused, 
though  for  reasons  so  frivolous,  that  it  seems  certain  the 
real  objection  Avas  not  to  the  poem,  but  to  the  author.'^ 

n The  autograph  manuscript  of  “ El  folio  pages,  double  columns,  with  the 
Ciceron,”  neatly  written  out  in  219  corrections  of  the  author  and  the  eras- 

voL.  III.  34  w 


266 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


Others  of  Father  Isla’s  works  were  more  fortunate. 
Six  volumes  of  his  sermons  were  collected  and  publish- 
ed, and  six  volumes  of  his  letters,  chiefly  addressed  to 
his  sister  and  her  husband,  and  written  in  a very  affec- 
tionate and  gay  spirit.  To  these,  at  different  times, 
were  added  a few  minor  works  of  a trifling  character, 
and  one  or  two  that  are  religious.*® 

But  what  most  surprised  the  world  was  his  transla- 
tion of  “Gil  Bias,”  printed  in  1787,  claiming  the  work, 
on  Avhich  the  fame  of  Le  Sage  must  always  principal- 
ly rest,  as  “ stolen  from  the  Spanish,  and  now,”  in  the 
words  of  Father  Isla’s  title-page,  “ restored  to  its  coun- 
try and  native  language  by  a Spaniard,  who  does  not 
choose  to  have  his  nation  trifled  with.”  The  external 
grounds  for  this  extraordinary  charge  are  slight.  The 
first  suggestion  occurs  in  1752,  and  is  made  by  Voltaire, 
who,  in  his  “Age  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,”  declares 


ures  of  the  censor,  is  in  the  Boston 
Athenaeum.  It  is  accompanied  by 
three  autograph  letters  of  Father  Isla ; 
by  the  opinion  of  the  censor,  that  the 
poem  ought  not  to  be  published  ; and  by 
an  answer  to  that  opinion  ; — the  last 
two  being  anonymous.  These  curious 
and  valuable  manuscripts  were  pro- 
cured in  Madrid  by  E.  Weston,  Esq., 
and  presented  by  him  to  the  Library  of 
the  Athenaeum,  in  1844. 

15  The  works  alluded  to  are,  — 
“ El  Mercurio  General,”  (Madrid, 
1784,  18mo,)  being  extracts  from  ac- 
counts claimed  to  have  been  written 
by  Father  Isla  for  that  journal,  in 
1758,  of  the  European  events  of  the 
year,  but  not  certainly  his ; — “ Cartas 
de  Juan  de  la  Enzina,”  (Madrid, 
1784,  18mo,)  a satirical  work  on  the 
follies  of  Spanish  medicine  ; — “ Car- 
tas Familiares,”  written  between  1744 
and  1781;  published,  1785-80,  also 
in  a second  edition,  Madrid,  1790,  6 
tom.  12rao;  — “ Coleccion  de  Papeles 
Critico-Apologeticos,”  (1788,  2 tom. 
18mo,)  in  defence  of  Feyjoo  ; — “ Ser- 
mones,”  Madrid,  1792,  6 tom.  8vo ; 


— “Rebusco,”  etc.,  (Madrid,  1790, 
18mo,)  a collection  of  miscellanies, 
some  of  which  are  probably  not  by 
Father  Isla  ; — “ Los  Aldeanos  Criti- 
cos  ” ; again  in  defence  of  Feyjoo  ; — 
and  various  papers  in  the  Seminario 
Erudito,  Tom.  XVL,  XX.,  and 
XXXIV.,  and  in  the  supplementary 
volume  of  the  “ Fray  Gerundio.”  A 
poem,  entitled  “ Sueno  Politico,” 
(Madrid,  1785,  18mo,)  on  the  acces- 
sion of  Charles  III.,  is  also  attributed 
to  him  ; and  so  are  “ Cartas  atrasadas 
del  Parnaso,”  a satire  which  is  not 
supposed  to  |iave  been  written  by  him, 
though  it  reminds  one  sometimes  of  the 
“ Ciceron.” 

16  (<  Aventuras  de  Gil  Bias  de  San- 
tillane,  robadas  a Espafia,  adoptadas 
en  Francia  por  Mens.  Le  Sage,  resti- 
tuidas  a su  Patria  y a su  Lengua  na- 
tiva,  por  un  Espafiol  zeloso,  que  no 
sufre  que  se  burlen  de  su  Nacion,” 
Madrid,  1787,  6 tom.  8vo,  and  often 
since.  Though  in  great  poverty  him- 
self, Isla  gave  any  profit  that  might 
come  from  his  version  of  the  Gil  Bias 
to  assist  a poor  Spanish  knight. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA  AND  LE  SAGE. 


267 


the  Gil  Bias  “ to  be  entirely  taken  from  Espinel’s  ‘ Mar- 
cos de  Obregon.’  ” This  charge,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not 
true,  and  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it  was  the  re- 
sult of  personal  ill-will  on  the  part  of  V oltaire,  who  had 
himself  been  attacked  in  the  Gil  Bias,  and  who  had,  in 
some  way  or  other,  heard  that  Le  Sage  was  indebted  to 
Espinel.  Afterwards,  similar  declarations  are  made  in 
two  or  three  books  of  no  authority,  and  especially  in  a 
Biographical  Dictionary  printed  at  Amsterdam  in  1771. 
But  this  is  all. 

Roused  by  such  suggestions,  however.  Father  Isla 
amused  himself  with  making  a translation  of  Gil  Bias, 
adding  to  it  a long  and  not  successful  continuation,*^ 
and  declaring,  without  ceremony  or  proof,  that  it  was 
the  work  of  an  Andalusian  advocate,  who  gave  his 
manuscript  to  Le  Sage,  when  Le  Sage  was  in  Spain, 
either  as  a secretary  of  the  French  embassy,  or  as  a 
friend  of  the  French  ambassador.  But  all  this  seems  to 
be  without  any  foundation,  for  the  manuscript  has  nev- 
er been  produced ; the  advocate  has  never  been  named ; 
and  Le  Sage  was  never  in  Spain.  Still,  the  Spanish 
claim  has  not  been  abandoned.  On  the  contrary,  Llo- 
rente,  in  two  ingenious  and  learned  works  on  the  subject, 
one  in  French  and  the  other  in  Spanish,  but  both  print- 
ed in  1822,  reasserts  it,  with  great  earnestness,  resting 
his  proofs  on  internal  evidence,  and  insisting  that  Gil 


Another  continuation  of  Gil  Bias, 
less  happy  even  than  that  of  Father 
Isla,  appeared,  in  2 tom.  8vo,  at  Ma- 
drid, in  1792,  entitled  “ Genealogia  de 
Gil  Bias,  Continuacion  de  la  Vida  de 
este  famoso  Sujeto,  por  su  Hijo  Don 
Alfonso  Bias  de  Liria.”  Its  author 
was  Don  Bernardo  Maria  de  Calzada,  a 
person  who,  a little  earlier,  had  trans- 
lated much  from  the  French.  (Sem- 
pere,  Biblioteca,  Tom.  VI.  p.  231.) 
This  work,  too,  the  author  declared  to 


be  a translation,  and,  like  Isla,  set 
forth  on  his  title-page  that  it  was  “ re- 
stored to  the  language  in  which  it  was 
originally  written.”  But  the  whole' 
is  a worthless  fiction,  title-page  and 
all,  though  the  attempt  to  make  out 
for  Gil  Bias  a clear  and  noble  geneal- 
ogy  on  the  side  of  his  mother  must  be 
admitted  to  be  a truly  Spanish  fancy. 
(See  Libros  III.  y IV.)  The  story 
is  unfinished. 


268  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

Bias  is  certainly  of  Spanish  origin,  and  that  it  is  proba- 
bly the  work,  not  indeed  of  Father  Isla’s  Andalusian 
advocate,  hut  of  Solis,  the  historian ; — a suggestion, 
for  which  Llorente  produces  no  better  reason,  than  that 
nobody  else  of  the  period  to  which  he  assigns  the  Gil 
Bias  was  able,  in  his  judgment,  to  write  such  a romance.^® 
But  there  is  a ready  answer  to  all  such  merely  con- 
jectural criticism,  Le  Sage  proceeded,  as  an  author  in 
romantic  fiction,  just  as  he  had  done  when  he  wrote  for 
the  public  theatre ; and  the  results  at  which  he  arrived 
in  both  cases  are  remarkably  similar.  In  the  drama, 
he  began  with  translations  and  imitations  from  the 
Spanish,  such  as  his  “ Point  of  Honor,”  which  is  taken 
from  Roxas,  and  his  “ Don  Cesar  Ursino,”  which  is 
from  Calderon ; but  afterwards,  when  he  better  under- 
stood his  own  talent  and  had  acquired  confidence  from 
success,  he  came  out  with  his  “ Turcaret,”  a wholly 
original  comedy,  which  far  surpassed  all  he  had  be- 


18  Voltaire,  CEuvres,  ed.  Beaumar- 
chais, Tom.  XX.  p.  155.  Le  Sage, 
Oeuvres,  Paris,  1810,  8vo,  Tom.  1. 
p.  xxxix.,  where  Voltaire  is  said  to 
have  been  attacked  by  Le  Sage,  in 
one  of  his  dramas ; besides  which  it 
is  supposed  Le  Sage  ridiculed  him 
under  the  name  of  Triaquero,  in  Gil 
Bias,  Lib.  X.  c.  5.  But  the  most 
important  and  curious  discussion  con- 
cerning the  authorship  of  Gil  Bias 
is  the  one  that  was  carried  on,  be- 
tween 1818  and  1822,  by  Francois 
de  Neufchateau  and  Antonio  de  Llo- 
rente, the  author  of  the  History  of 
the  Inquisition.  It  began  with  a me- 
moir, by  the  first,  read  to  the  French 
Academy,  (1818,)  and  an  edition  of 
Gil  Bias,  (Paris,  1820,  3 tom.  8vo,) 
in  both  which  he  maintains  Le  Sage 
to  be  the  true  author  of  that  romance. 
To  both  Llorente  replied  by  a counter 
memoir,  addressed  to  the  French  Acad- 
emy, and  by  his  “ Observations  sur 
Gil  Bias,”  (Paris,  1822,  12mo,)  and 
his  “ Observaciones  sobre  Gil  Bias” 


(Madrid,  1822,  12mo) ; two  works  not 
exactly  alike,  but  substantially  so,  and 
equally  maintaining  that  Gil  Bias  is 
Spanish  in  its  origin,  and  probably 
the  work  of  Solis,  the  historian,  who, 
as  Llorente  conjectures,  wrote  a ro- 
mance in  Spanish,  entitled,  “ El  Ba- 
chiller  de  Salamanca,”  the  manuscript 
of  which  coming  into  the  possession 
of  Le  Sage,  he  first  plundered  from  it 
the  materials  for  his  Gil  Bias,  which 
he  published  in  1715-35,  and  then 
gave  the  world  the  remainder  as  the 
“ Bachelier  de  Salamanque,”  in  1738. 
This  theory  of  Llorente  is  explained, 
with  more  skill  than  is  shown  in  its 
original  framing,  by  the  late  accom- 
plished scholar,  Mr.  A.  H.  Everett,  in 
an  article  which  first  appeared  in  the 
North  American  Review,  for  October, 
1827,  when  its  author  was  Minister  of 
the  United  States  in  Spain,  and  after- 
wards in  his  pleasant  “ Critical  and 
Miscellaneous  Essays,”  published  in 
Boston,  1845,  12mo. 


Chap.  IV.] 


PADRE  ISLA  AND  LE  SAGE. 


269 


fore  attempted,  and  showed  how  much  he  had  been 
wasting  his  strength  as  an  imitator.  Just  so  he  did  in 
romance-writing.  He  began  with  translating  the  “ Don 
Quixote”  of  Avellaneda,  and  remodelling  and  enlarging 
the  “ Diablo  Cojuelo  ” of  Guevara.  But  the  “ Gil  Bias,” 
the  greatest  of  all  his  works  of  prose  fiction,  is  the 
result  of  his  confirmed  strength ; and,  in  its  character- 
istic merits,  is  as  much  his  own  as  the  “ Turcaret.” 

On  this  point,  the  internal  evidence  is  as  decisive  as 
the  external.  The  frequent  errors  of  this  remarkable 
romance  in  Spanish  geography  and  history  show,  that  it 
could  hardly  have  been  the  work  of  a Spaniard,  and 
certainly  not  of  a Spaniard  so  well  informed  as  Solis  ; 
its  private  anecdotes  of  society  in  the  time  of  Louis  the 
Fourteenth  and  Louis  the  Fifteenth  prove  it  to  have 
been  almost  necessarily  written  by  a Frenchman ; while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  freedom  with  which,  as  we  go  on, 
we  find  that  every  thing  Spanish  is  plundered,  — now 
a tale  taken  from  “ Marcos  de  Obregon,”  now  an  in- 
trigue or  a story  from  a play  of  Mendoza,  of  Boxas,  or 
of  Figueroa,  — points  directly  to  Le  Sage’s  old  habits, 
and  to  his  practised  skill  in  turning  to  account  every 
thing  that  he  deemed  fitted  to  his  purpose.  The  result 
is,  that  he  has,  by  the  force  of  his  genius,  produced  a 
work  of  great  brilliancy ; in  which,  from  his  entire  famil- 
iarity with  Spanish  literature  and  his  unscrupulous  use 
of  it,  he  has  preserved  the  national  character  with  such 
fidelity,  that  a Spaniard  is  almost  always  unwilling  to 
believe  that  the  Gil  Bias,  especially  now  that  he  has  it 
in  the  excellent  version  of  Father  Isla,  could  have  been 
written  by  any  body  but  one  of  his  own  countrymen.’® 

19  “ Le  Point  d’Honneur  ” is  from  sino  ” is  from  “ Peor  esta  que  esta- 
“ No  hay  Amigo  para  Amigo,”  which  ba,”  in  Calderon,  Comedias,  1763, 
is  the  first  play  in  the  Comedias  de  Tom.  III.  The  errors  of  Gil  Bias  in 
Roxas,  1680  ; — and  “ Don  Cesar  Ur-  Spanish  geography  and  history  are 

Vi* 


270 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


The  chief  talent  of  Father  Isla  was  in  satire,  and  the 
great  service  he  performed  for  his  country  was  that  of 
driving  from  its  respectable  churches  the  low  and  vul- 
gar style  of  preaching  with  which  they  had  long  been 
infested ; — a work  which  the  “ Friar  Gerund  ” achieved 
almost  as  completely  as  the  “Don  Quixote”  did  that 
of  destroying  the  insane  passion  for  books  of  chivalry 
which  prevailed  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

But,  meanwhile,  other  attempts  were  making  in  other 
directions  to  revive  the  literature  of  the  country ; some 
by  restoring  a taste  for  the  old  national  poetry,  some 
by  attempting  to  accommodate  every  thing  to  the  French 
doctrines  of  the  age  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and  some 
by  an  ill-defined  and  often,  perhaps,  unconscious  strug- 
gle to  unite  the  two  opinions,  and  to  form  a school 
whose  character  should  he  unlike  that  of  either  and 
yet  in  advance  of  both. 

In  the  direction  of  the  earlier  national  poetry  little 
was  done  by  original  efforts,  but  something  was  at- 
tempted in  other  ways.  Huerta,  a fierce,  but  inconsis- 


constantly  pointed  out  by  Llorente  as 
blunders  of  Le  Sage  in  the  careless 
use  of  his  original ; while,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  Fr.  de  Neufchateau  points  out 
its  allusions  to  Parisian  society  in  the 
time  of  Le  Sage.  But  of  his  free  use 
of  Spanish  fictions,  which  he  took  no 
pains  to  conceal,  the  proof  is  abundant. 
I have  already  noticed,  when  speaking 
of  Espinel,  {ante,  pp.  67  - 70,)  how 
much  Le  Sage  took  from  “ Marcos  de 
Obregon” ; but,  besides  this,  the  adven- 
tures of  Don  Rafael  with  the  Seigneur 
de  Moyadas  in  Gil  Bias  (Lib.  V.  c.  1) 
are  taken  from  “ Los  Empenos  del 
Mentir  ” of  Mendoza  (Fenix  Castella- 
no, 1690,  p.  254)  ; — the  story  of  the 
Marriage  de  Vengeance  in  Gil  Bias 
(Lib.  IV.  c.  4)  is  from  the  play  of 
Roxas,  “ Casarse  por  Vengarse  ” ; — 
the  story  of  Aurora  de  Guzman  in  Gil 
Bias  (Lib.  IV.  c.  5 and  6)  is  from 


“ Todo  es  enredos  Amor,”  by  Di- 
ego de  Cordoba  y Figueroa  ; — and 
so  on.  See  Tieck’s  Vorrcde  to  his 
translation  of  Marcos  de  Obregon 
(1827);  Adolfo  de  Castro’s  Poesias 
de  Calderon  y Plagios  de  Le  Sage, 
(Cadiz,  1845,  18mo,  a curious  little 
pamphlet) ; and  the  fourth  book  of  the 
same  author’s  “ Conde  Duque  de  Oli- 
varez” (Cadiz,  1846,  8vo).  In  his 
“ Bachelier  de  Salamanque,”  Le 
Sage  goes  one  step  further.  On  the 
title-page  of  this  romance,  first  printed 
threeyearsafter  the  last  volume  of  Gil 
Bias  appeared,  he  says  expressly, 
that  “ it  is  translated  from  a Spanish 
manuscript,”  and  yet  the  story  of 
Dona  Cintia  de  la  Carrera,  in  the 
fifty-fourth  and  fifty-fifth  chapters,  is 
taken  from  Moreto’s  “ Desden  con  el 
Desden  ” ; a play  as  well  known  as 
any  in  Spanish  literature. 


Chap.  IV.]  CONTROVERSY  WITH  THE  FRENCH  SCHOOL.  271 


tent,  adversary  of  the  French  innovations,  printed,  in 
1778,  a volume  of  poems  almost  entirely  in  the  old 
manner ; but  it  was  too  much  marked  with  the  bad  taste 
of  the  preceding  century  to  enjoy  even  a temporary  suc- 
cess, and  its  author,  therefore,  could  boast  of  no  follower 
of  any  note  in  a path  which  was  constantly  less  and  less 
trodden.^ 

On  the  other  hand,  more  was  done  with  effect  to  re- 
call the  memory  of  the  old  masters  themselves.  Lopez 
de  Sedano,  between  1768  and  1778,  published  his 
“ Spanish  Parnassus,”  in  nine  volumes ; a work  which, 
though  ill  digested  and  not  ahvays  showing  good  taste 
in  its  selections  and  criticisms,  is  still  a rich  mine  of 
the  poetry  of  the  country  in  its  best  days,  and  contains 
important  materials  for  the  history  of  Spanish  literature 
from  the  period  of  Boscan  and  Garcilasso.^^  Sanchez 
went  further  back,  and  in  1779  offered  to  his  country- 
men, for  the  first  time,  the  greater  legendary  treasures 
of  their  heroic  ages,  beginning  with  the  noble  old  poem 
of  the  Cid,  but  unhappily  leaving  incomplete  a task  for 
which  he  had  proved  himself  so  well  fitted  by  his  learn- 
ing and  zeal,  if  not  by  his  acuteness.^^  And  finally, 
Sarmiento,  a friend  of  Feyjoo,  and  one  of  his  ablest  pub- 
lic defenders,  undertook  an  elaborate  history  of  Spanish 


20  “ Poesias  de  Don  Vicente  Garcia 

de  la  Huerta,”  Madrid,  1778,  12mo, 
and  a second  edition,  1786.  “ La 

Perromachia,”  a mock-heroic  on  the 
loves  and  quarrels  of  sundry  dogs, 
by  Francisco  Nieto  Molina,  (Madrid, 
1765,  12mo,)  is  too  poor  to  deserve 
notice,  though  it  is  an  attempt  to  give 
greater  currency  to  the  earlier  nation- 
al verse,  — the  rcdondillas. 

21  J.  J . Lopez  de  Sedano,  “ Parnaso 
Espanol,”  (Madrid,  Sancha,  1768- 
78,  9 tom.  12mo,)  was  the  subject 
of  a good  deal  of  criticism  soon  after 
it  appeared.  The  club  of  the  elder 
Moratin  — to  be  noticed  immediately 


— was  much  dissatisfied  with  it 
(Obras  Postumas  de  N.  F.  Moratin, 
Londres,  1825,  12mo,  p.  xxv.)  ; — 
Yriarte  in  1778  printed  a dialogue  on 
it,  “ Donde  las  dan  las  toman,”  full 
of  severity  (Obras,  1805,  Tom.  VI.) ; 

— and  in  1785  Sedano  replied,  under 
the  name  of  Juan  Maria  Chavero  y 
Eslava  de  Ronda,  in  four  volumes, 
12mo,  published  at  Malaga  and  called 
the  “ Coloquios  de  Espina.” 

22  T.  A.  Sanchez  (born  1732,  died 
1798)  published  his  “ Poesias  Ante- 
riores  al  Siglo  XV.”  at  Madrid,  in 
4 tom.  8vo,  1779  - 90,  but  printed 
very  little  else. 


272  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

poetry,  which  contains  important  discussions  relating  to 
the  period  embraced  by  the  inquiries  of  Sanchez,  but 
which  was  broken  off  by  the  death  of  its  venerable 
author  in  1770,  and  remained  unpublished  till  five 
years  later.^  These  three  works,  though  they  excited 
too  little  attention  at  first,  were  still  works  of  impor- 
tance, and  have  served  as  the  foundation  for  a better 
state  of  things  since. 

The  doctrines  of  the  French  school,  somewhat  modi- 
fied, perhaps,  by  the  reproduction  of  the  elder  Spanish 
literature,  but  still  substantially  unchanged,  found  fol- 
lowers more  numerous  and  active.  During  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Third,  Moratin  the  elder,  a gentleman  of 
an  old  Biscayan  family,  who  was  born  in  1737,  and  died 
in  1780,  succeeded,  in  a great  degree,  to  the  inheritance 
of  Luzan’s  opinions,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  reform 
of  the  taste  of  his  countrymen.  He  was  the  friend  of 
Montiano,  who  had  himself  endeavoured  to  introduce 
classical  tragedy  upon  the  Spanish  stage,  and  who  had, 
probably,  some  share  in  forming  the  literary  character 
of  the  yomig  poet.  But  the  court,  as  usual,  was  an 
element  m the  movement.  Moratin  was  received  with 
flattering  regard  by  the  Duke  of  Medina-Sidonia,  the 
head  of  the  great  house  of  the  Guzmans ; by  the  Duke 
of  Ossuna,  long  ambassador  in  France ; by  Aranda,  the 
wise  minister  of  state,  who  rarely  forgot  the  cause  of 
intellectual  culture ; and  by  the  Infante  Don  Gabriel  de 
Bourbon,  the  accomphshed  translator  of  Sallust ; and 


23  Martin  Sarmiento,  “ Memorias 
para  la  Historia  de  la  Poesia  y Poetas 
Espafioles,”  Madrid,  1775,  4to.  He 
was  bom  in  1692,  and  wrote  a great 
deal,  but  published  little.  His  de- 
fence of  his  master,  Feyjoo,  (1732,) 
generally  goes  with  the  “ Teatro  Cri- 
tico  ” ; and  some  of  his  tracts  are  to  be 


found  in  the  Seminario  Erudito,  Tom. 
V.,  VI.,  XIX.,  and  XX.  His  “ His- 
toria de  la  Poesia,”  printed  as  the  first 
volume  of  his  Works,  which  were  not 
further  continued,  is  the  more  valu- 
able, because,  making  his  inquiries 
quite  independently  of  Sanchez,  he 
often  comes  to  the  same  results. 


Chap.  IV.] 


MORATIN  THE  ELDER. 


273 


each  of  these  persons  was  thus  able,  through  Moratiii, 
to  exercise  an  influence  on  the  state  of  letters  in  Spain. 

His  first  public  effort  of  any  consequence,  except  a 
drama  that  Avill  be  noticed  hereafter,  was  his  “ Poeta,” 
which  appeared  in  1764.  It  consists  enthely  of  his  own 
shorter  poems,  and  is  among  the  many  proofs  how  small 
was  the  interest  then  felt  in  literature,  smce,  though  the 
whole  collection  fills  only  a hundred  and  sixty  pages,  it 
Avas  found  expedient  to  hublish  it  in  ten  successive 
numbers,  in  order  to  give  it  a fair  opportunity  to  be 
chculated  and  read.  This  was  folloAved,  the  next  year, 
by  the  “Diana,”  a short  didactic  poem,  in  six  books, 
on  the  Chase,  and  in  1765  by  a narratHe  poem  on  the 
Destruction  of  his  Ships  by  Cortes,  to  Avhich  if  we  add 
a A'olnme  published  by  the  piety  of  his  son  in  1821,  and 
contaming,  with  a modest  and  beautiful  life  of  their 
author,  a collection  of  poems,  most  of  which  had  not 
before  been  published,  we  shall  have  all  of  the  elder 
Moratin  that  can  now  interest  ns. 

Its  value  is  not  great ; and  yet  portions  of  it  are  not 
likely  to  be  soon  forgotten.  The  “ Epic  Canto,”  as  he 
calls  it,  on  the  bold  adventure  of  Cortes  in  bui-ning  his 
ships,  is  the  noblest  poem  of  its  class  produced  in  Spain 
durmg  the  eighteenth  century,  and  gives  more  pleasure 
than  almost  any  of  the  historical  epics  that  preceded 
it  in  such  large  numbers.  Some  of  his  shorter  pieces, 
like  his  ballads  on  Moorish  subjects,  and  an  ode  to 
a champion  in  the  bull-fights,  — Avhich  IMoratin  con- 
stantly frequented,  and  of  which  he  printed  a pleasant 
historical  sketch,  — are  full  of  spirit.  All  he  wrote, 
indeed,  is  marked  by  purity  and  exactness  of  language 
and  harmony  of  versification ; shoAvmg  that,  though  he 
possessed  to  an  extraordinary  degree  the  power  of  an 
improvisator,  he  composed  carefully  and  finished  witli 

35 


VOL.  III. 


274  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

patience.  But  his  chief  success  was  as  a public  teacher ; 
laboring  faithfully  in  the  chair  of  the  Imperial  College, 
where  he  took  the  place  of  his  friend  Ayala,  and  re- 
buking the  bad  taste  of  his  times  by  the  strength  of 
his  own  modest  example.^^ 

Moratin  was  an  amiable  man,  and  gathered  the  men 
of  letters  of  the  Spanish  capital  in  a friendly  circle 
about  him.  They  met  in  one  of  the  better  class  of 
taverns,  — the  Fonda  de  San  Sebastian,  — where  they 
maintained  a club-room  that  was  always  open  and  ready 
to  receive  them.  Ayala,  the  tragic  writer;  Cerda,  the 
literary  antiquarian;  Bios,  who  wrote  the  analysis  of 
“ Don  Quixote  ” prefixed  to  the  magnificent  edition  of 
the  Academy”;  Ortega,  the  botanist  and  scholar ; Pizzi, 
the  Professor  of  Arabic  Literature ; Cadahalso,  the  poet 
and  essayist;  Munoz,  the  historian  of  the  New  World; 
Yriarte,  the  fabulist;  Conti,  the  Italian  translator  of  a 
collection  of  Spanish  poetry;  Signorelli,  the  author  of 
the  general  history  of  theatres ; and  others,  — were 
members  of  this  pleasant  association,  and  resorted  con- 
tinually to  its  cheerful  saloon. 

How  truly  Spanish  was  the  tone  of  their  intercourse 
may  be  gathered  from  the  fact,  that  they  had  but  one 
law  to  govern  all  their  proceedings,  and  that  was,  never 
to  speak  on  any  subject  except  the  Theatre,  Bull-fights, 
Love,  and  Poetry.  But  in  every  thing  they  undertook 


24  Besides  the  poems  noted  in  the 
text,  I have,  by  Moratin  the  elder,  an 
Ode  on  account  of  an  act  of  mercy 
and  pardon  by  Charles  HI.,  in  1762, 
and  the  “ Egloga  a Velasco  y Gonza- 
lez,” printed  on  occasion  of  their  por- 
traits being  placed  in  the  Academy,  in 
1770 ; both  of  little  consequence,  but 
not,  I believe,  noticed  elsewhere. 
His  “ Obras  Postumas  ” were  printed 
at  Barcelona,  in  1821,  4to,  and  re- 
printed at  London,  in  1825,  12mo. 


Moratin’s  “ Carta  Sobre  las  Fiestas 
de  Toros,”  (Madrid,  1777,  12mo,) 
which  is  a slight  prose  tract,  is  in- 
tended to  prove  historically  that  the 
amusement  of  bull-fighting  is  Spanish 
in  its  origin  and  character  ; — a point 
concerning  which  those  who  have  read 
the  Chronicles  of  Muntaner  and  the 
Cid  can  have  little  doubt.  Moratin 
had  the  power  of  improvisating  with 
great  effect.  Obras,  1825,  pp.  xxxiv. 
- xxxix. 


Chap.  IV.] 


CADAHALSO. 


275 


they  were  much  in  earnest.  They  read  their  works  to 
each  other  for  mutual,  friendly  criticism,  and  discussed 
freely  whatever  was  written  at  the  time,  and  whatever 
they  thought  would  tend  to  revive  the  decayed  spirit 
of  their  country.  They  read,  too,  and  examined  the 
literature  of  other  nations ; and,  if  their  tendencies  were 
more  towards  the  school  of  Boileau  and  the  great  mas- 
ters of  Italy,  than  might  have  been  anticipated  from  the 
spirit  of  their  association,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  two  of  their  most  active  members  were  Italian  men 
of  letters,  that  the  court  had  recently  come  from  Na- 
ples, and  that  the  spirit  of  the  times  much  favored 
all  that  was  French,  and  especially  the  French  thea- 
tre.^= 

Among  the  most  interesting  members  of  this  agree- 
able society  was  Jose  de  Cadahalso,  a gentleman  de- 
scended from  one  of  the  old  mountain  families  of  the 
North  of  Spain,  but  born  at  Cadiz  in  1741.  His  edu- 
cation was  conducted  from  early  youth  in  Paris,  but 
before  he  was  twenty  years  old  he  had  visited  Italy, 
Germany,  England,  and  Portugal,  and  obtained  a knowl- 
edge of  the  language  and  literature  of  each,  and  espe- 
cially of  England,  sulRcient  to  emancipate  him  from 
many  national  prejudices,  and  make  him  more  useful  to 
the  cause  of  letters  at  home  than  he  would  otherwise 
have  been. 

On  his  return  to  Spain  he  took  the  military  dress  of 
Santiago,  and  entered  the  army.  There  he  rose  rapidly, 
till  he  reached  the  rank  of  colonel ; but,  in  all  the  dif- 
ferent places  to  which  his  own  choice  or  the  service  of 
his  regiment  carried  him,  — Saragossa,  Madrid,  Alcala 
de  Henares,  and  Salamanca,  — he  sought  occasion  to 


25  N.  F.  Moratin,  Obras  Postumas,  1821,  pp.  xxiv. -xxxi. 


276  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI 

continue  his  earlier  pursuits,  and  succeeded  in  connect- 
ing himself  with  the  leading  spirits  of  the  time,  such 
as  Moratin,  Iglesias,  Yriarte,  the  rrise  Jovellanos,  and 
the  young  and  promising  Melendez  Valdes.  But  his 
career,  though  successful,  was  short.  He  perished  at  the 
siege  of  Gibraltar,  struck  by  a bomb,  on  the  27th  of 
February,  1782,  and  the  governor  of  the  besieged  for- 
tress joined  in  the  general  sorrow  over  the  grave  of  an 
honorable  enemy  who  had  been  distinguished  alike  in 
letters  and  in  arms.^® 

In  1772  Cadahalso  published  his  “ Erudites  a la  Vio- 
leta,”  or  Fashionable  Learning,  to  which,  from  its  con- 
siderable success,  he  added  a supplement  the  same  year. 
The  original  work  is  a pleasant  satire  on  the  superficial 
scholarship  of  his  times,  and  is  thrown  into  the  form 
of  directions  how  to  teach  the  whole  circle  of  human 
knowledge  in  a course  of  lectures,  that  shall  just  fill 
the  seven  days  of  the  week ; the  supplement  giving  a 
few  further  illustrations  of  the  same  subject,  and  some 
of  the  results  of  such  teachings  on  the  unhappy  schol- 
ars who  had  been  its  victims.  This,  with  a volume  of 
poems  printed  the  next  year,  and  containing  several 
careful  translations  from  the  ancients,  a few  satirical 
trifles  after  the  manner  of  Quevedo,  and  a good  many 
Anacreontic  songs  and  tales  in  the  manner  of  Villegas, 
are  all  of  his  works  that  were  published  during  his 
lifetime. 

But  after  his  death  there  was  found  among  his  pa- 
pers a collection  of  letters,  supposed  to  have  been 

^ Sempere,  Biblioteca,  Tom.  11.  which  means  “cottage”  or  “shan- 
p.  21.  Puybiisque,  Tom.  II.  p.  493.  ty.”  Both  these  words,  however,  arc 
His  name,  I believe,  was  originally  regarded  as  one  and  the  same,  in  the 
spelt  Cadalso ; but  as  that  is  a recog-  first  edition  of  the  Dictionary  of  the 
nized  word,  meaning  “scaffold,”  it  Academy,  so  that  perhaps  not  much 
is  softened  in  the  recent  Madrid  edi-  is  gained  by  the  change, 
tions  of  his  Works  into  Cadahalso, 


Chap.  IV.] 


YRIARTE. 


277 


written  by  a person  connected  Avith  an  embassy  to  Spain 
from  Morocco,  and  addressed  to  his  friends  at  home. 
They  belong  to  the  large  family  of  works  of  fiction, 
begun  by  Marana’s  “ Turkish  Spy,”  and  are  commonly 
set  doAvn  as  imitations  of  Montesquieu’s  “ Persian  Let- 
ters,” but,  in  fact,  show  a nearer  relationship  Avith 
Goldsmith’s  “ Citizen  of  the  World.”  The  Avhole  work, 
however,  is  more  occupied  with  literary  discussions  and 
temporary  satire,  than  either  of  those  just  referred  to  ; 
and  therefore,  though  it  is  Avritten  in  a pure  and  pleas- 
ant style,  Avith  wit  and  good  sense,  it  has  been  far  from 
obtaining  a place,  like  theirs,  in  the  general  regard  of 
the  world.  Still,  like  the  rest  of  his  posthumous  Avorks, 
Avhich  comprise  a fcAv  more  compositions  in  prose  satire 
and  a fcAV  more  poems,  the  best  of  which  are  in  the  old 
short  verses  ahvays  so  popular  in  Spain,  “ The  Moor- 
ish Letters”  of  Cadahalso  haA^e  been  often  reprinted, 
and  probably  are  not  destined  to  be  forgotten.^^ 
Another  member  of  the  society  founded  by  Moratin, 
and  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  them,  Avas  Thomas  de 
Yriarte,  a gentleman  Avho  Avas  born  on  the  island  of 
Tenerifie  in  1750,  but  received  that  part  of  his  educa- 
tion Avhich  decided  the  course  of  his  life  at  Madrid, 
under  the  auspices  of  his  uncle,  Don  Juan  de  Yriarte, 
the  learned  head  of  the  King’s  Library.  The  young 
man  Avas  known  as  a dramatic  writer,  and  as  a transla- 
tor of  French  plays  for  the  royal  theatres,  from  the 
age  of  eighteen ; and  from  the  age  of  tAventy-one,  AA’hen 
he  printed  some  good  Latin  verses  on  the  birth  of  the 


27  His  “ Erudites  a la  Violeta,”  varrete,  appeared  at  Madrid,  in  1818, 
and  his  poetry,  “ Ocios  de  mi  Juven-  in  3 tom.  12mo,  and  has  been  reprinted 
tud,”  were  printed  at  Madrid,  1772  and  more  than  once  since.  For  the  con- 
1773,  4to,  under  the  assumed  name  of  temporary  opinion  of  Cadahalso,  see 
Joseph  Vasquez.  An  edition  of  his  Sempere,  loc.  cit. 

Works,  with  an  excellent  Life  by  Na- 


X 


278  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Peeiod  III. 

Infante,  afterwards  Charles  the  Fourth,  he  was  distin- 
guished at  court  for  his  accomplishments  both  in  an- 
cient and  modern  literature.  Soon  after  this  period  he 
received  a place  under  the  government ; and,  though  his 
employments,  both  in  the  Office  of  Foreign  Affairs  and 
in  that  of  the  Department  of  War,  were  of  an  intellect- 
ual nature,  still  his  time  was  much  occupied  by  them,  and 
his  opportunities  for  the  indulgence  of  a poetical  taste 
were  much  diminished.  Besides  this,  he  had  rivalries 
and  troubles  with  Sedano,  Melendez,  Forner,  and  some 
others  of  his  contemporaries,  and  was  summoned  before 
the  Inquisition  in  1786,  as  one  tainted  with  the  new 
French  philosophy.  The  result  of  all  these  trials  and 
interruptions  was,  that  when,  after  his  death,  which 
occurred  in  1791,  his  works  were  collected  and  pub- 
lished, more  than  half  of  the  eight  small  volumes 
through  which  they  were  spread  was  found  to  consist 
of  translations  and  personal  controversies ; the  transla- 
tions made  with  skill,  and  the  quarrels  managed  with 
spirit  and  wit,  but  neither  of  them  important  enough 
to  be  now  remembered. 

His  original  poetry  is  better.  It  is  marked  by  purity 
of  style,  regularity,  and  elegance,  but  not  by  power  or 
elevation.  The  best  of  what  is  merely  miscellaneous  is 
to  be  found  in  eleven  Epistles,  with  one  of  which,  ad- 
dressed to  his  friend  Cadahalso,  he  dedicates  to  him  a 
translation  of  Horace’s  “ Art  of  Poetry.”  But  in  two 
departments,  where  his  natural  taste  led  him  to  labor 
with  a decided  preference,  he  apparently  made  more  ef- 
fort than  in  any  other,  and  had  greater  success. 

The  first  of  these  was  didactic  poetry.  His  poem 
“ On  Music,”  — a subject  which  he  chose  from  his  con- 
siderable proficiency  in  that  art,  — appeared  in  1780, 
and  was  soon  favorably  known,  not  only  at  home,  but 


Chap.  IV.] 


YRIARTE. 


279 


in  Italy  and  France.  It  consists  of  five  books,  in  whicli 
he  discusses  with  philosophical  precision  the  elements 
of  music;  musical  expression  of  different  kinds,  but 
especially  martial  and  sacred ; the  music  of  the  theatre ; 
that  of  society ; and  that  of  man  in  solitude.  The  poem 
is  written  in  the  free,  national  silva,  irregular,  but  flow- 
ing, and  no  want  of  skill  is  shown  in  its  management. 
But,  as  a whole,  it  has  too  little  richness  and  vigor  to 
give  life  to  the  cold  forms  of  instruction,  in  which  it  is 
throughout  rigorously  cast.^ 

The  other  department,  in  which  Yriarte  was  more 
successful,  was  that  of  fables.  Here  he,  in  some  degree, 
struck  out  a new  path ; for  he  not  only  invented  all  his 
fictions,  which  no  other  fabulist  in  modem  times  had 
done,  but  restricted  them  all,  in  their  moral  purpose, 
to  the  correction  of  the  faults  and  follies  of  men  of 
learning,  — an  application  which  had  not  before  been 
thought  of.  Their  wBole  number,  including  a few  that 
are  posthumuous,  is  nearly  eighty,  above  sixty  of  which 
appeared  in  1782.  They  are  written  with  great  care,  in 
no  less  than  forty  different  measmes,  and  show  an  ex- 
traordinary degree  of  ingenuity  in  adapting  the  attri- 
butes and  instiucts  of  animals  to  the  instruction,  not  of 
mankind  at  large,  as  had  always  been  done  before,  but 
to  that  of  a separate  and  small  class,  betw*een  whom  and 
the  inferior  creation  the  resemblance  is  rarely  obvious. 
The  task  was  certainly  a difficult  one.  Perhaps,  on  this 

23  As  a sort  of  counterpart  to  the  cia,  who  indulged  himself  in  poetry 
poem  on  Music,  by  Yriarte,  may  be  and  painting  as  an  amateur,  but  whose 
mentioned  one  of  less  merit,  published  serious  occupations  were  in  the  Office 
soon  afterwards  by  Don  Diego  Anto-  of  Foreign  Affairs  at  Madrid.  He 
nio  Rejon  de  Silva,  “ La  Pintura,  died  about  1796.  Sempere  y Gua- 
Poema  Didactico  en  Tres  Cantos,”  rinos  (Biblioteca,  Tom.  V.  pp.  1-6) 
(Segovia,  1786,  8vo,)  the  first  canto  gives  an  account  of  his  few  and  unim- 
being  on  Design,  the  second  on  Com-  portant  works,  and  Cean  Bermudez 
position,  and  the  third  on  Coloring,  (Diccionario,  Tom.  IV.  p.  164)  has 
with  notes  and  a defence  of  Spanish  a short  notice  of  his  life, 
artists.  He  was  a gentleman  of  Mur- 


280 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


account,  they  are  too  narrative  in  their  structure,  and 
fail  somewhat  in  the  genial  spirit  which  distinguishes 
^Esop  and  La  Fontaine,  the  greatest  masters  of  Apo- 
logue and  Fable.  But  their  influence  was  so  much 
needed  in  the  age  of  bad  writing  when  they  appeared, 
and  they  are  besides  so  graceful  in  their  versiflcation, 
that  they  were  not  only  received  with  great  favor  at 
first,  but  have  never  lost  it  since.  Their  author’s  rep- 
utation, in  fact,  now  rests  on  them  almost  exclusively.^® 

Yriarte,  however,  had  a rival,  who  shared  these  hon- 
ors with  him,  and  in  some  respects  obtained  them  even 
earlier.  This  was  Samaniego,  a Biscayan  gentleman  of 
rank  and  fortune,  who  was  born  in  1745,  and  died  in 
1801 ; having  devoted  his  life,  in  the  most  disinterested 
manner,  to  the  welfare  of  his  native  province.  He  was 
one  of  the  earliest  and  most  active  members  of  the  first 
of  those  societies  sometimes  called  “ Friends  of  the 
Country,”  and  sometimes  “ Societies  for  Public  Im- 
provement,” which  began  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Third,  and  soon  spread  through  Spain,  exercising  an 
important  influence  on  the  education  and  public  econo- 
my of  the  kingdom,  and  laboring  to  raise  the  arts  of  life 
from  the  degraded  condition  into  which  they  had  fallen 
during  the  latter  period  of  the  dominion  of  the  House 
of  Austria. 

The  Biscayan  Society,  founded  in  1765,  devoted  itself 
much  to  the  education  of  the  people ; and,  to  favor  this 
great  cause,  Samaniego  undertook  to  write  fables  suited 
to  the  capacity  of  the  children  taught  in  the  Society’s 
seminary.  How  early  he  began  to  prepare  them  is  not 
known;  but  in  the  first  portion,  published  in  1781,  and 

29  Obras  de  Thomas  de  Yriarte,  Tom.  I.  p.  27.  Sempere,  Biblioteca, 
4 Madrid,  1805,  8 tom.  12mo.  Villanu-  Tom.  VI.  p.  190.  Llorente,  Histoire, 
eva,  Memorias,  Londres,  1825,  8vo,  Tom.  II.  p.  449. 


t'HAP.  IV.] 


SAMANIEGO. 


281 


therefore  one  year  before  those  of  Yriarte  appeared,  he 
speaks  of  Yriarte  as  his  model,  and  leaves  no  doubt  that 
the  fables  of  that  poet  had  been  seen  by  him.  The  sec- 
ond part  of  Samaniego’s  collection  was  published  in 
1784,  when  that  of  his  rival  had  been  admired  by  the 
public  long  enough  to  change  the  relations  of  the  two 
authors,  and  bring  up  a quarrel  of  pamphlets  between 
them,  little  creditable  to  either.  Both  parts,  taken  to- 
gether, contain  a hundred  and  fifty-seven  fables,  the 
last  nineteen  of  which  and  a few  others  are  original, 
while  the  rest  are  taken,  partly  from  .Jiisop,  Pheedrns, 
and  the  Oriental  fabulists,  but  chiefly  from  La  Fontaine 
and  Gay.  They  succeeded  at  once.  The  children 
learned  them  by  heart,  and  the  teachers  of  the  children 
found  in  them  subjects  for  pleasant  reading  and  reflec- 
tion. They  were,  no  doubt,  less  carefully  written  than 
the  fables  of  Yriarte,  less  original  and  less  exactly 
adapted  to  their  purpose ; but  they  were  more  free-heart- 
ed, more  natural,  and  adapted  to  a larger  class  of  read- 
ers ; in  short,  there  is  a more  easy  poetical  genius  about 
them,  and  therefore,  even  if  they  cannot  claim  a higher 
merit  than  those  of  Yriarte,  they  have  taken  a stronger 
hold  on  the  national  regard.^” 

The  best  of  them  are  the  shortest  and  simplest,  like 
the  following,  entitled  “ The  Scrupulous  Cats,”  which 
was  well  suited  to  the  time  when  it  appeared,  and  can 
hardly  be  amiss  at  any  other. 


Two  cats,  old  Tortoise-back  and  Kate, 
Once  from  its  spit  a capon  ate. 


30  Felix  Maria  de  Samaniego,  “ Coleccion,”  and  a reply  to  his  at- 
“Fabulas  en  Verso  Castellano  para  tack  on  Yriarte  in  the  sixth  volume  of 
el  Uso  del  Real  Seminario  Vasconga-  Yriarte’s  Works.  For  an  account  of 
do,”  Nueva  York,  1826, 18mo.  There  the  “patriotic  societies,”  see  Sem- 
is a Life  of  the  author,  by  Navarrete,  pere,  Biblioteca,  Tom.  V.  p.  135,  and 
in  the  fourth  volume  of  Quintana’s  Tom.  VI.  p.  1. 

36  X* 


VOL.  III. 


282 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Peeiod  III. 


It  was  a giddy  thing,  be  sure, 

And  one  they  could  not  hide  or  cure. 

They  licked  themselves,  however,  clean. 

And  then  sat  down  behind  a screen. 

And  talked  it  over.  Quite  precise. 

They  took  each  other’s  best  advice. 

Whether  to  eat  the  spit  or  no  1 
“ And  did  they  eat  it?  ” “ Sir,  I trow, 

They  did  not!  They  were  honest  things. 

Who  had  a conscience,  and  knew  how  it  stings.” 

Samaniego  was  not  the  only  person  who,  without  be- 
longing to  the  society  of  Moratin  and  his  friends,  co- 
operated with  them  in  their  efforts  to  encourage  a better 
tone  in  the  literature  of  their  country.  Among  those 
who,  from  a similar  impulse,  but  with  less  success,  took 
the  same  direction,  were  Arroyal,  who,  in  1784,  pub- 
lished a collection  of  poems,  which  he  calls  Odes,  but 
which  are  oftener  epigrams ; and  Montengon,  a Jesuit, 
who,  after  the  expulsion  of  his  Order  from  Spain,  began, 
in  1786,  with  his  “ Eusebio,”  a work  on  education,  partly 
in  imitation  of  the  “ Telemaque,”  and  then  went  on  rap- 
idly with  a prose  epic  called  “ Eodrigo,”  a volume  of 
Odes,  and  several  other  works,  written  with  little  talent, 
and  showing  by  their  inaccuracies  of  style  that  their 
author  had  been  an  exile  in  Italy  till  his  mother  tongue 
had  become  strange  to  him.  To  these  should  be  added 
Gregorio  de  Salas,  a quiet  ecclesiastic,  who  wrote  odes, 
fables,  and  other  trifles,  that  were  several  times  printed 
after  1790;  Ignacio  de  Meras,  a courtier  of  the  worst 
days  of  Charles  the  Fourth,  whose  worthless  dramas  and 
miscellaneous  poetry  appeared  in  1792;  and  the  Count 
de  Noroha,  a soldier  and  diplomatist,  who,  besides  a 
dull  epic  on  the  separation  of  the  Arabian  empire  in 
Spain  from  that  of  the  East,  printed,  in  1799-1800, 


31  Parte  II.  Lib.  II.  Fab.  9.  He  same  fable,  but  the  shortest  is  much 
gives,  also,  an  expanded  version  of  the  the  best,  nXe'ov  y/itcru  Tvavros- 


Chap.  IV.] 


VARIOUS  AUTHORS. 


283 


two  volumes  of  verse  so  light,  that  they  procured  for 
him  sometimes  the  title  of  the  Spanish  Dorat.  But  all 
these  writers  only  showed  a constantly  increasing  dis- 
position to  fall  more  and  more  into  the  feebler  French 
school  of  the  eighteenth  century ; and  while  none  of 
them  had  the  talent  of  the  few  active  spirits  collected 
at  the  Fonda  de  San  Sebastian  in  Madrid,  none  certain- 
ly exercised  the  sort  of  influence  they  did  on  the  poetry 
of  their  time.^^ 


32  A few  words  should  be  added,  on 
each  of  these  last  five  authors. 

1.  “ Las  Odasde  Leon  de  Arroyal,” 
Madrid,  1784,  12mo.  At  the  end  are 
a few  worthless  Anacreontics  by  a 
lady,  whose  name  is  not  given ; and. 
at  the  beginning  is  a truly  Spanish 
definition  of  lyrical  poetry,  namely, 
that  “ whose  verses  can  be  properly 
played,  sung,  or  danced." 

2.  Pedro  deMontengon,“  Eusebio,” 
Madrid,  1786  - 87,  4 tom.  8vo.  The 
first  two  volumes  gave  great  offence  by 
the  absence  of  all  injunctions  to  make 
religious  instruction  a part  of  educa- 
tion ; and,  though  the  remaining  two 
made  up  for  this  deficiency,  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  Montengon  in- 
tended originally  to  follow  the  theory 
of  the  ‘ ‘ Emile.  ’ ’ “El  Antenor  ’ ’ ( Ma- 
drid, 1788,  2 tom.  8vo)  is  a prose 
poem  on  the  tradition  of  the  founding 
of  Padua  by  the  Trojans.  “ El  Rod- 
rigo” (Madrid,  1793,  8vo)  is  another 
prose  epic,  in  one  volume  and  twelve 
books,  on  the  “Last  of  the  Goths.” 
“ Eudoxia,”  Madrid,  1793,  8vo ; 
again,  a work  on  education ; but  on 
the  education  of  women.  “ Odas,” 
Madrid,  1794,  8vo  ; very  poor. 
Montengon,  of  whom  these  are  not 
all  the  works,  was  born  at  Alicant,  in 
1745,  and  was  alive  in  1815.  He 
was  very  young  when  he  entered  the 
Church,  and  lived  chiefly  at  Naples, 
where  he  threw  off  his  ecclesiastical 
robes  and  devoted  himself  to  secular 
occupations. 

3.  Francisco  Gregorio  de  Salas, 
“ Coleccion  de  Epigramas,”  etc., 
1792,  4th  edition,  Madrid,  1797,  2 


tom.  12mo.  His  “ Observatorio  Riis- 
tico  ” (1770,  tenth  edition  1830)  is  a 
long  dull  eclogue,  divided  into  six 
parts,  which  has  enjoyed  an  unreason- 
able popularity.  L.  F.  Moratin  (Obras, 
1830,  Tom.  IV.  pp.  287  and  351)  gives 
an  epitaph  for  Salas,  with  a pleasing 
prose  account  of  his  personal  character, 
which  he  well  says  was  much  more 
interesting  than  his  poetry  ; and  Sem- 
pere  (Biblioteca,  Tom.  V.  pp.  69,  etc.) 
gives  a list  of  his  works,  all  of  which, 
I believe,  are  in  the  collection  printed 
at  Madrid  in  1797,  ut  sup.  A small 
volume  entitled  “ Parabolas  Morales,” 
etc.,  (Madrid,  1803,  12mo,)  consisting 
of  prose  apologues,  somewhat  better 
than  any  thing  of  Salas  that  preceded 
it,  is,  I suppose,  later,  and  probably 
the  last  of  his  works. 

4.  Ignacio  de  Meras,  “ Obras  Poeti- 
cas,”  (Madrid,  1797,  2 tom.  12mo,) 
contain  a stiff  tragedy,  called  “ Teo- 
nea,”  in  blank  verse,  and  within  the 
rules;  a comedy  called  “The  Ward 
of  Madrid,”  in  the  old  Jiguron  style, 
but  burlesque  and  dull ; an  epic  canto 
on  “The  Conquest  of  Minorca,”  in 
1782,  to  imitate  Moratin's  “ Ships  of 
Cortes  ” ; a poem  “ On  the  Death  of 
Barbarossa,  in  1518  ” ; and  a number 
of  sonnets  and  odes,  some  of  the  last 
of  which  should  rather  be  called  bal- 
lads, and  some  of  them  satires;  — the 
whole  very  meagre. 

5.  Caspar  de  Norofia,  whose  familj'^ 
was  of  Portuguese  origin,  was  bred  a 
soldier  and  served  at  the  siege  of  Gib- 
raltar, where  he  wrote  an  elegy  on 
the  death  of  Cadahalso  (Poesias  de 
Norona,  Madrid,  1799-  1800,  2 tom. 


284 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


l2mo,  Tom.  II.  p.  190).  He  rose  in 
the  army  to  be  a lieutenant-general, 
and,  while  holding  that  rank,  published 
his  Ode  on  the  Peace  of  1795,  (Tom. 
I.  p.  172,)  by  which  he  was  first  pub- 
licly known  as  a poet,  and  which,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  a few  of  his  shorter  and 
lighter  poems,  is  the  best  of  his  works. 
Afterwards  he  was  sent  as  ambassa- 
dor to  Russia,  but  returned  to  defend 
his  country  when  it  was  invaded  by 
the  French,  and  was  made  governor  of 
Cadiz.  He  died  in  1815,  (Fuster, 
Biblioteca,  Tom.  H.  p.  381,)  and  in 
1816  his  epic,  entitled  “ Ommiada,” 
was  published  at  Madrid,  in  two  vol- 


umes, 12mo,  containing  above  fifteen 
thousand  verses;  as  dull,  perhaps,  as 
any  of  the  similar  poems  that  abound 
in  Spanish  literature,  but  less  offensive 
to  good  taste  than  most  of  them.  In 
1833,  there  appeared  at  Paris  his 
“ Poesias  Asiaticas  puestas  en  Verso 
Castellano,”  translations  from  the 
Arabic,  Persian,  and  Turkish,  made, 
as  he  says  in  the  Preface,  to  give  him 
poetical  materials  for  his  epic.  His 
“ Quicaida,”  a heroi-comic  poem,  in 
eight  cantos,  filled  with  parodies,  is 
very  tedious.  It  is  in  his  Poesias, 
printed  in  1800. 


CHAPTER  V. 


School  of  Salamanca.  — Melendez  Valdes. — Gonzalez.  — Forner. — 

IgLESIAS. ClENFUEGOS. JOVELLANOS.  — MuNOZ. EsCOIQUIZ. MORA- 

TiN  THE  Younger.  — Quintana. 


Both  the  parties,  into  Avhicli  Spanish  literature  was 
divided  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  centui*)-, 
erred  by  running  into  those  extremes  of  opinion  which 
are  rarely  right  in  any  thing  and  never  in  matters 
of  taste.  Moratin  was  wrong  in  speaking  with  con- 
tempt of  such  poetry  as  the  fine  old  ballad  of  “ Calay- 
nos,”  and  Huerta  was  equally  wrong  when  he  said, 
that  the  “ Athalie  ” of  Racine  might  be  fit  to  be  repre- 
sented by  boarding-school  misses,  but  was  fit  for  noth- 
ing else.  It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  another  party, 
or  school,  should  be  formed,  which  should  endeavour 
to  avoid  the  excesses  of  both  its  predecessors,  and  unite 
their  merits ; one  that  should  not  be  insensible  to  the 
power  and  richness  of  the  old  writers  of  the  time  of 
the  Philips,  and  yet,  escaping  from  their  extravagances 
and  bad  taste,  should  mould  itself  in  some  degree  ac- 
cording to  the  severe  state  of  literary  opinion  then  pre- 
vailing on  the  Continent.  Such  a school  in  fact  ap- 
peared at  Salamanca  in  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Third  and  the  beginning  of  that  of  Charles 
the  Fourth. 

Its  proper  founder  was  Melendez  Valdes,  who  was 
born  in  Estremadura,  in  1754,  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen 


286  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

was  sent  to  study  at  Salamanca,  where,  if  he  did  not 
pass  the  larger  remaining  portion  of  his  life,  he  passed 
at  least  its  happiest  and  best  years.^  As  a versifier,  he 
began  early,  and  in  a bad  school ; writing  at  first  in  the 
manner  of  Lobo,  who  was  still  read  and  admired.  But 
he  soon  fell  indirectly  under  the  infiuence  of  Moratin 
and  his  friends  at  Madrid,  who  were  in  every  way  op- 
posed to  the  bad  taste  of  their  time.  By  a fortunate 
accident  Cadahalso  was  carried  fresh  from  the  meetings 
of  the  club  of  the  Fonda  de  San  Sebastian  to  Salamanca. 
His  discerning  kindness  detected  at  once  the  talent  its 
possessor  had  not  yet  discovered.  He  took  Melendez 
into  his  house ; showed  him  the  merit  of  the  elder 
literature  of  his  country,  as  well  as  that  of  the  other 
cultivated  nations  of  Europe;  and  devoted  himself  so 
earnestly  and  so  affectionately  to  the  development  of  his 
young  friend’s  genius,  that  it  was  afterwards  said,  with 
some  truth,  that,  among  all  the  works  of  Cadahalso,  the 
best  was  Melendez,  At  the  same  period,  too,  Melendez 
became  acquainted  with  Iglesias  and  Gonzalez ; and 
through  the  latter  was  placed  in  relations  of  friendship 
with  the  commanding  mind  of  Jovellanos,  who  exer- 
cised from  the  first  moment  of  their  intercourse  an 
obvious  and  salutary  infiuence  over  him. 

His  earliest  public  success  was  in  1780,  when  he 
obtained  a prize  offered  by  the  Spanish  Academy  for 
the  best  eclogue.  Yriarte,  who  was  some  years  older, 
and  had  already  become  favorably  known  at  court  and 
in  the  capital,  was  his  most  formidable  rival.  But  the 
poem  Yriarte  offered,  which  is  on  the  pleasures  of  a 
country  life,  as  set  forth  by  one  disgusted  with  that  of 


1 Considerable  improvement  took  there.  But  still  things  remained  in  a 
place  at  Salamanca  in  some  depart-  very  torpid  state, 
ments  of  study  while  Melendez  was 


Chap.  V.] 


MELENDEZ  VALDES. 


287 


the  city,  is  someAvhat  in  the  formal,  declamatory  style 
of  the  less  fortunate  portions  of  the  older  Spanish  pas- 
torals ; Avhile  that  of  Melendez  is  fresh  from  the  fields, 
and  as  one  of  the  judges  said,  in  the  discussion  that 
followed  its  reading,  seems  absolutely  to  smell  of  their 
wild  flowers.  It  was,  indeed,  in  sweetness  and  gentle- 
ness, if  not  in  originality  and  strength,  such  a return  to 
the  tones  of  Garcilasso,  as  had  not  been  heard  in  Spain 
for  above  a century.  Yriarte  received  the  second  honors 
of  the  contest,  but  was  not  satisfied  with  such  a decision, 
and  made  known  his  feelings  by  an  ill-judged  attack 
upon  the  successful  eclogue  of  his  rival.  The  popular 
favor,  however,  fully  sustained  the  Academy,  and  its 
vote  on  that  occasion  has  never  been  reversed. 

The  next  year  Melendez  came  to  Madrid.  He  was 
received  with  great  kindness  by  Jovellanos  and  his 
friends ; and  obtained  new  honors  at  the  Academy  of 
San  Fernando,  by  an  ode  “ On  the  Glory  of  the  Arts,” 
which  that  Academy  had  been  founded  to  foster.  But 
his  preference  was  still  for  his  old  poetical  haunts  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tormes,  and,  having  obtained  the  chair 
of  Professor  of  the  Humanities  or  Philology,  at  Sala- 
manca, he  gladly  returned  thither,  and  devoted  himself 
to  its  unostentatious  duties. 

In  1784,  at  the  suggestion  of  Jovellanos,  he  became 
a competitor  for  the  prize  offered  by  the  city  of  Madrid 
for  a comedy,  and  Avrote  “ The  Marriage  of  Camacho.” 
But  his  talent  was  not  dramatic ; and  therefore,  though 
he  obtained  the  votes  of  the  judges,  he  did  not,  to  the 
great  disappointment  of  his  patron,  obtain  those  of  the 
public  when  his  drama  was  brought  to  the  test  of  a 
free  representation. 

This  failure,  however,  he  retrieved  a year  afterwards, 
by  publishing  a small  volume  of  poetry,  chiefly  lyric 


288 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


and  pastoral.  Most  of  it  is  in  the  short,  national  verse, 
and  nearly  all  is  marked  with  a great  gentleness  of 
spirit  and  a truly  poetical  sensibility.  The  Anacreontics 
which  it  contains  remind  us  of  Villegas,  but  have  more 
philosophy  and  more  tenderness  than  his.  The  ballads, 
for  which  his  talent  was  no  less  happily  fitted,  if  they 
lack  the  abrupt  vigor  of  the  elder  times,  have  a grace,  a 
lightness,  and  a finish  which  belong  to  that  more  ad- 
vanced period  of  a nation’s  poetry,  when  the  popular 
lyre  has  ceased  to  give  forth  new  and  original  tones. 
But  everywhere  this  little  volume  shows  traces  of  an 
active  fancy  and  powers  of  nice  observation,  which 
break  forth  in  rich  and  faithful  descriptions  of  natu- 
ral scenery,  and  in  glimpses  of  what  is  tenderest  and 
truest  in  the  human  heart.  It  was,  in  fact,  a volume 
of  poetry  more  worthy  of  the  country  than  any  that 
had  been  produced  in  Spain  since  the  disappearance  of 
the  great  lights  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  cen- 
turies ; and  it  was  received,  in  consequence,  with  gen- 
eral enthusiasm,  not  only  for  its  own  sake,  but  as  the 
long-looked-for  dawn  of  a brighter  day. 

But  his  success  was  not  altogether  wisely  used  by 
Melendez.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  for  some  years  of 
spending  his  vacations  at  court,  where  he  was  a favorite 
with  many  persons  of  distinction ; and,  now  that  he  had 
risen  so  much  in  general  consideration,  he  employed  his 
influence  in  soliciting  for  himself  a place  under  the 
government,  ■ — ■ an  old  weakness  in  the  Castilian  charac- 
ter, which,  however  it  might  be  disguised  by  the  loyalty 
of  public  service,  has  broken  down  the  independence 
and  happiness  of  multitudes  of  high-minded  men  who 
have  yielded  to  it.  Melendez,  unfortunately,  succeeded 
in  his  aspirations.  In  1789  he  was  made  a judge  in  one 
of  the  courts  of  Saragossa,  and  in  1791  was  raised  to 


Chap.  V.J 


MELENDEZ  VALDES. 


289 


a dignified  position  in  the  Chancery  of  Valladolid;  thus 
involving  himself  more  or  less  with  the  political  gov- 
ernment of  the  country,  to  which,  during  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  Prince  of  the  Peace,  every  officer  it  em- 
ployed was  in  some  way  made  subservient. 

He  did  not,  however,  neglect  his  favorite  pursuits. 
He  fulfilled  with  faithfulness  and  ability  the  duties  of 
his  place ; but  poetry  was  still  his  first  love,  for  whose 
.service  he  rescued  many  hours  of  secret  and  fond  devo- 
tion., In  1797,  he  published  a new  edition  of  his  works, 
more  than  doubling  their  original  amount,  and  dedicat- 
ing them  to  the  reigning  favorite,  — the  master  of  all 
fortunes  in  the  country  he  governed  so  ill.  It  was  suc- 
cessful. The  new  portions  wore  a somewhat  graver  and 
more  philosophical  air  than  his  earliest  lyrics  and  pas- 
torals had  done,  and  showed  more  the  influence  of 
studies  in  English  and  German  literature.  But  this 
was  not,  on  the  Avhole,  an  improvement.  He  felt,  un- 
doubtedly, that  the  tremendous  revolutions  he  wit- 
nessed on  all  sides,  in  the  fall  of  kingdoms  and  the  con- 
\'ulsions  of  society,  prescribed  to  poetry  subjects  more 
lofty  and  solemn  than  he  had  been  wont  to  seek ; and 
he  made  an  effort  to  rise  to  a requisition  so  severe. 
Once  or  twice  he  intimates  a consciousness  that  he  was 
not  equal  to  the  undertaking ; and  yet  his  “ Ode  to 
Winter,”  as  a season  for  reflection,  which  shows  how 
much  he  had  read  Thomson,  his  “ Ode  to  Truth,” 
and  his  “ Ode  on  the  Presence  of  God  in  his  Works,” 
are  not  unworthy  of  their  lofty  subjects.  Several  of  his 
philosophical  epistles,  too,  are  good ; especially  those  to 
.Tovellanos  and  the  Prince  of  the  Peace.  But,  in  his 
longer  canzones^  where  he  sometimes  imitates  Petrarch, 
and  in  his  epic  canto  on  “ The  Fall  of  Lucifer,”  which 

VOL.  III.  37  Y 


290 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


was  evidently  suggested  by  Milton,  he  failed.^  On  the 
whole,  therefore,  the  attempt  to  introduce  a new  tone 
into  Spanish  poetry,  — a tone  of  moral  and,  in  some 
degree,  of  metaphysical  discussion,  to  which  he  was 
urged  by  Jovellanos,  — if  it  did  not  diminish  the  per- 
manent fame  of  Melendez,  did  not  add  to  it.  The  con- 
cise energy  and  philosophical  precision  such  a tone  re- 
quires are,  in  fact,  foreign  from  the  fervent  genius  of 
the  old  Castilian  verse,  and  hardly  consistent  with  that 
submissive  religious  faith  which  is  one  of  the  most 
important  elements  of  the  national  character.  In  this 
direction,  therefore,  Melendez  has  been  little  followed. 

As,  however,  we  have  intimated,  this  new  publication 
of  his  works  was  successful.  The  Prince  of  the  Peace 
was  flattered  hy  his  share  in  it ; and  Melendez  received, 
in  consequence,  an  important  employment  about  the 
court,  which  brought  him  to  Madrid,  where,  his  friend 
Jovellanos  having  been  made  a minister  of  state,  his 
position  became,  for  a moment,  most  agreeable  and 
happy ; while,  for  the  future,  a long  vista  of  preferment 
and  fame  seemed  opening  before  him.  But  the  very 
next  year,  the  virtuous  and  wise  man  on  whom  rested 
so  many  hopes,  besides  those  of  Melendez,  fell  from 
power ; and,  according  to  the  old  custom  of  the  Spanish 
monarchy,  his  political  friends  were  involved  in  his 
ruin.  At  first,  Melendez  was  exiled  to  Medina  del  Cam- 
po,  and  afterwards  to  Zamora;  but  in  1802  the  rigor 
of  his  persecution  was  mitigated,  and  he  was  permitted 

® Whether  the  “ Caida  de  Luzbel  ” same  title,  professing  to  be  the  work 
was  written  because  a prize  was  offer-  of  Manuel  Perez  Valderrabano,  (Pa- 
ed  by  the  Spanish  Academy,  in  1785,  lencia,  1786,  12mo,)  and  to  have  been 
for  a poem  on  that  subject,  which  was  written  for  such  a prize,  to  all  the 
to  consist  of  not  more  than  one  hun-  conditions  of  which  the  poem  of  Me- 
dred  octave  stanzas,  I do  not  know ; lendez  seems  conformed.  No  adjudica- 
but  I have  a poor  attempt  with  the  tion  of  the  prize,  however,  took  place. 


Chap.  V.] 


MELENDEZ  VALDES. 


291 


to  return  to  Salamanca,  the  scene  of  his  earliest  and 
happiest  fame. 

But  he  returned  there  a saddened  and  disappointed 
man;  little  inclmed  to  poetical  studies,  and  with  little 
of  the  tranquillity  of  spirit  necessary  to  pursue  them 
successfully.  At  the  end  of  six  weary  years  came  the 
revolution  of  Aranjuez,  and  he  was  again  free.  He 
hastened  at  once  to  Madrid.  But  he  was  too  late.  The 
king  was  already  at  Bayonne,  and  the  French  power 
was  in  the  ascendant  in  the  capital.  Unfortunately,  he 
attached  himself  to  the  new  government  of  Joseph,  and 
shared  first  its  disasters  and  then  its  fate.  Once  he  was 
absolutely  led  out  to  be  shot  by  the  excited  population 
of  0\fiedo,  where  he  had  been  sent  as  a commissioner. 
On  another  occasion,  his  house  at  Salamanca  was  sacked, 
and  his  precious  library  destroyed,  by  the  very  French 
party  whose  interests  he  served.  At  last,  when  all  was 
lost,  he  fied.  But,  before  he  crossed  the  frontier,  he 
knelt  down  and  kissed  the  last  spot  of  earth  that  he 
could  call  Spain ; and  then,  as  the  Bidassoa  received 
his  tears,  cried  out  in  anguish  that  “ he  should  never 
again  tread  the  soil  of  his  country.”  His  prophecy 
was  fulfilled  as  sadly  as  it  was  made.  Four  miserable 
years  he  lived  as  an  exile  in  the  South  of  France,  and 
then  died  at  Montpellier,  on  the  24th  of  May,  1817,  in 
poverty  and  suffering.^ 

To  solace  the  heavy  hours  of  his  exile,  he  occupied 
himself  with  preparing  the  materials  for  a final  publi- 
cation of  all  he  had  written,  embracing  many  new  po- 

3 The  death  of  Melendez  was  sup-  Gallego  with  difficulty  discovered  his 
posed  by  his  physician  to  have  been  remains,  in  1828,  and  caused  them  to 
occasioned  by  the  vegetable  diet  to  be  respectfully  interred,  in  one  of  the 
which  he  was  driven,  for  want  of  principal  cemeteries  of  Montpellier, 
means  to  purchase  food  more  substan-  with  an  appropriate  monument  to 
tial ; and,  from  the  same  poverty,  his  mark  the  spot.  Semanario  Pintores- 
burial  was  so  obscure  that  the  Duke  co,  1839,  pp.  331-  333;  a striking 
of  Frias  and  the  poet  Juan  Nicasio  and  sad  history. 


292 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


ems  and  many  changes  in  those  already  published ; — 
all  which  appeared  in  1820,  and  have  constituted  the 
basis  of  the  different  editions  of  his  works  that  have 
been  given  to  the  world  since.  Like  the  previous  col- 
lections, it  shows,  not,  indeed,  a poetical  genius  of  the 
first  order,  nor  one  with  very  flexible  or  very  various 
attributes,  but  certainly  a genius  of  great  sweetness ; 
always  Avinning  and  graceful  Avhenever  the  subject  im- 
plies tenderness,  and  sometimes  vigorous  and  imposing 
Avhen  it  demands  poAver.  What  Melendez  Avrote  Avith 
success  was  a great  advance  upon  the  poetry  of  Mon- 
tiano,  and  eA^en  upon  that  of  the  elder  Moratin.  It  Avas 
more  Castilian,  and  more  full  of  feeling,  than  theirs.  In 
style,  too,  it  Avas  more  free,  and  it  has  done  much  to  set- 
tle the  poetical  manner  that  has  since  prevailed.  Galli- 
cisms occasionally  occur  that  might  have  been  avoided, 
though  many  of  them  haA^e  now  become  a part  of  the 
recognized  resources  of  Spanish  poetry ; but  more  often 
Melendez  has  revived  old  and  neglected  Avords  and 
phrases,  Avhich  have  thus  been  restored  to  their  place  in 
the  language,  and  have  increased  its  Avealth.  As  a gen- 
eral remark,  his  verse  is  not  only  floAving,  but  Avell  suited 
to  his  subjects;  and  Avhether  we  consider  Avhat  he  has 
done  himself,  or  Avhat  influence  he  has  exercised  OA’er 
others,  — especially  Avhen  Ave  read  the  little  A^olume  he 
published  in  the  freshness  of  his  youth,  Avhile  he  Avas 
still  unknoAvn  at  court  and  still  careless  of  the  convul- 
sions that  Avere  at  last  to  overAvhelm  him, — there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  he  Avas  better  fitted  to  form  a neAv  school 
and  giA'e  a guiding  impulse  to  the  national  poetry  than 
any  Avriter  that  had  appeared  in  Spain  for  above  a cen- 
tury.'* 

* Juan  Melendez  Valdes,  “ Poes'i-  tom.  18mo;  1820,  4 tom.  8vo ; the 
as,”  Madrid,  1785,  12mo;  1797,  3 last  with  a Life,  by  Quintana.  (Puy- 


Chap.  V.] 


DIEGO  GONZALEZ. 


293 


Older  than  Melendez,  bnt  somewhat  influenced  by 
him  and  by  Cadahalso,  who  had  an  effect  on  the  taste  of 
both,  was  the  excellent  Father  Diego  Gonzalez,  a mod- 
est Augustinian  monk,  a part  of  whose  life  was  spent 
in  active  religious  duties  at  Salamanca,  where  he  be- 
came intimate  Avith  the  poets  of  the  new  school ; a part 
of  it  at  Seville,  where  he  was  the  friend  of  Jovellanos; 
and  a part  of  it  at  Madrid,  Avhere  he  died  in  1794, 
about  sixty  years  old,  sincerely  lamented  by  some  of 
the  noblest  spirits  of  his  time.  As  a poet,  Gonzalez 
adhered  more  to  the  old  Castilian  school  than  Melendez 
did.  But  his  model  was  the  best.  He  imitated  Luis 
de  Leon;  and  did  it  with  such  happy  success,  that,  in 
some  of  his  odes  and  in  some  of  his  Aversions  of  the 
Psalms,  Ave  might  almost  think  we  were  listening  to  the 
solemn  tones  of  his  great  master.  His  most  popular 
poems,  hoAvever,  Avere  light  and  gay ; such  as  his  verses 
“ To  a Perfidious  Bat,”  Avhich  have  been  very  often 
printed ; his  verses  “ To  a Lady  Avho  had  burned  her 
Finger  ” ; and  similar  trifles,  in  Avhich  he  shoAved  that 
all  the  secret  idiomatic  graces  of  the  old  Castilian  AA'ere 
at  his  command.  A didactic  poem  on  “ The  Four  Ages 
of  Man,”  Avhich  he  began,  and  in  the  first  book  of  which 
there  is  a fine  dedication  of  the  Avhole  to  Jovellanos, 
Avas  never  finished.  Indeed,  his  poetry,  though  much 
knoAvn  and  circulated  during  his  lifetime,  Avas  an  object 
of  little  interest  or  care  to  himself,  and  Avas  collected 


busque,  Tom.  II.  p.  496.)  I have  lendez,  so  severe  that  I find  it  diificult 
seen  it  stated,  that  three  counterfeit  to  explain  its  motive.  The  judg-ment  of 
editions  of  the  first  small  volume,  Martinez  de  la  Rosa,  in  the  notes  to  his 
printed  in  1785,  appeared  almost  at  didactic  poem  on  Poetry,  is  much  more 
the  same  time  with  the  true  one;  so  faithful  and  true.  Melendez  corrected 
great  was  the  first  outbreak  of  his  his  verse  with  great  care ; sometimes 
popularity.  The  first  volume  of  Her-  with  too  much,  as  may  be  seen  by  com- 
mosilla  (Juicio  Critico  de  los  Princi-  paring  some  of  the  poems  as  he  first 
pales  Poetas  Espafioles  de  la  Ultima  published  them,  in  1785,  with  their 
Era,  Paris,  1840,  2 tom.  12mo)  con-  last  revision,  in  the  edition  of  his 
tains  a criticism  of  the  poems  of  Me-  Works,  1820. 

Y* 


294 


• HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


with  difficulty  after  his  death,  and  published  by  his 
faithful  friend,  Juan  Fernandez.*^ 

Other  poets,  among  whom  were  Forner,  Iglesias,  and 
Cienfuegos,  were  more  under  the  influence  of  the  Sala- 
manca school  than  Gonzalez  was.  Forner,  like  Melen- 
dez, was  born  in  Estremadura,  and  the  two  young  friends 
Avere  educated  together  at  Salamanca.  In  his  critical 
opinions,  — ■ partly  shown  in  a satire  “ On  the  Faults 
introduced  into  Castilian  Poetry,”  which  gained  an  aca- 
demic prize  in  1782,  and  partly  in  his  controversies  with 
Huerta  on  the  subject  of  the  Spanish  theatre,  — he  in- 
clines much  to  the  stricter  French  school.  But  his 
poetry  is  more  free  than  such  opinions  would  imply ; and 
in  his  latter  years,  when  he  lived  as  a magistrate  at 
Seville,  and  studied  Herrera,  Bioja,  and  the  other  old 
masters  who  were  natives  of  its  soil,  he  attached  him- 
self yet  more  decidedly  to  the  national  manner,  and 
approached  nearer  to  the  serene  severity  of  Gonzalez. 
Unhappily,  his  life,  besides  being  much  crowded  with 
business,  was  short.  He  died  in  1797,  only  forty-one 
years  old ; and,  except  his  prose  works,  the  best  of  which 
is  a well-written  defence  of  the  literary  reputation  of  his 
country  against  the  injurious  imputations  of  foreigners, 
he  left  little  to  give  the  world  proof  of  the  merits  he 
possessed,  or  the  influence  he  really  exercised.® 

Iglesias,  though  his  life  was  even  shorter,  was,  in 
some  respects,  more  fortunate.  He  was  born  in  Sala- 

5 “ Poesias  de  M.  T.  Diego  de  critical  controversies  and  discussions 
Gonzalez,”  Madrid,  1812,  12mo.  He  were  chiefly  under  assumed  names, — 
was  a native  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  and  Tome  Cecial,  Varas,  Bartolo,  etc.  His 
was  born  in  1733.  If  he  had  been  a poetry  is  best  found  in  the  “ Bibliote- 
little  less  modest,  and  a little  less  con-  ca  ” of  Mendibil  y Silvela,  (Burdeos, 
nected  with  Jovellanos  and  Melendez,  1819,  4 tom.  8vo,)  and  in  the  fourth 
we  might  have  had  a modern  school  volume  of  Quintana’s  “ Poesias  Selec- 
of  Seville  as  well  as  of  Salamanca.  tas  ” ; — an  attempt  to  publish  a col- 

6 Juan  Pablo  Forner,  “ Oracion  lection  of  all  his  works,  edited  by  Luis 
Apologetica  por  la  Espana  y su  Merito  Villanueva,  having  stopped  after  issu- 
Literario,”  Madrid,  1786, 12mo.  His  ing  the  first  volume,  Madrid,  1843, 8vo. 


Chap.  V.] 


IGLESIAS.  — CIENFUEGOS. 


295 


manca,  and  educated  there  under  the  most  favorable  au- 
spices. Offended  at  the  low  state  of  morals  in  his  native 
city,  he  indulged  himself  at  first  in  the  free  forms  of 
Castilian  satire ; — ballads,  apologues,  epigrams,  and  es- 
pecially the  half-simple,  half-malicious  letrillas,  in  which 
he  was  eminently  successful.  But,  when  he  became  a 
parish  priest,  he  thought  such  lightness  unbecoming  the 
example  he  wished  to  set  before  his  flock.  He  devoted 
himself,  therefore,  to  serious  composition  ; wrote  serious 
ballads,  eclogues,  and  silvas  in  the  manner  of  Melendez ; 
and  published  a didactic  poem  on  theology  ; — all  a re- 
sult of  a most  worthy  purpose,  and  all  written  in  the 
pure  style  which  is  one  of  his  prominent  merits ; but 
none  of  it  giving  token  of  the  instinctive  promptings 
of  his  genius,  and  none  of  it  fitted  to  increase  his  final 
reputation.  After  his  death,  which  occurred  in  1791, 
when  he  was  thirty-eight  years  old,  this  became  at  once 
apparent.  His  works  were  collected  and  published  in 
two  volumes ; the  first  being  filled  with  the  graver  class 
of  his  poems,  and  the  second  with  the  satirical.  The 
decision  of  the  public  was  instant.  His  lighter  poems 
were  too  free,  but  they  were  better  imitations  of  Que- 
vedo  than  had  yet  been  seen,  and  became  favorites  at 
once ; the  serious  poems  were  dull,  and  soon  ceased  to 
be  read.^ 

Cienfuegos,  who  was  ten  years  younger  than  Melen- 
dez, was  more  strictly  his  follower  than  either  of  the  two 
poets  last  mentioned.  But  he  had  fallen  on  evil  times, 
and  his  career,  which  promised  to  be  brilliant,  was  cut 


“ Poesias  de  Don  Josef  Iglesias 
de  la  Casa,”  Salamanca,  1798,  2 tom. 
18mo,  Segunda  Edicion ; forbidden  by 
the  Inquisition,  Index  Expurg.,  1805, 
p.  27.  The  best  editions  are  those  of 
Barcelona,  1820,  and  Paris,  1821 ; 


but  there  are  several  others,  and 
among  them  one  in  four  small  vol- 
umes, 1840,  the  last  of  which  contains 
a considerable  number  of  poems  not 
before  published,  some  of  which,  and 
perhaps  all,  are  not  by  Iglesias. 


296  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III 

short  by  the  troubles  they  brought  upon  him.  In 
1798  he  published  his  poetical  works;  the  miscella- 
neous portion  consisting  of  Anacreontics,  odes,  ballads, 
epistles,  and  elegies,  which,  while  they  give  proof  of 
much  real  talent  and  passion,  show  sometimes  an  excess 
of  sentimental  feeling,  and  sometimes  a desire  to  imitate 
the  metaphysical  and  philosophical  manner  supposed  to 
be  demanded  by  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Both  were  de- 
fects, to  which  he  had  been  partly  led  by  the  example 
of  his  friend  and  master,  Melendez,  at  whose  feet  he 
long  sat  in  the  cloisters  of  Salamanca ; and  both  were 
affectations,  from  which  a character  so  manly  and  de- 
cided as  that  of  Cienfuegos  might  in  time  have  eman- 
cipated itself. 

But  the  favor  with  which  this  publication  was  receiv- 
ed procured  for  him  the  place  of  editor  of  the  govern- 
ment gazette,  at  Madrid ; and,  when  the  French  occu- 
pied that  capital,  in  1808,  he  was  found  firm  at  his 
post,  detennined  to  do  his  duty  to  his  country.  Murat. 
Avho  had  the  command  of  the  invading  forces,  endeav- 
oured, at  first,  to  seduce  or  drive  him  into  submission, 
but,  failing  in  this,  condemned  him  to  death ; a sentence 
which  would  infallibly  have  been  carried  into  execution. 
— since  Cienfuegos  refused  to  make  the  smallest  con- 
cession to  the  French  authority,  — if  his  friends  had  not 
interfered  and  procured  a commutation  of  it  into  trans- 
portation to  France.  The  change,  how^ever,  w^as  hardly 
a mercy.  The  sufferings  of  the  journey,  in  which  In* 
travelled  as  a prisoner ; the  grief  he  felt  at  leaving  his 
friends  in  hands  which  had  hardly  spared  his  own  life ; 
and  the  anticipation  of  a long  exile  in  the  midst  of 
his  own  and  his  country’s  enemies,  w^ere  too  much  for 
his  patriotic  and  generous  spirit ; and  he  died  in 
July,  1809,  at  the  age  of  forty-five,  only  a few  days 


Chap.  V.] 


JOVELLANOS. 


297 


after  he  had  reached  the  spot  assigned  for  his  punish- 
ment.® 

One  other  person,  already  referred  to  with  honor, 
must  now  be  particularly  noticed,  Avho,  if  his  life  be- 
longed to  the  state,  still  Avrote  poetry  AAuth  success,  and 
exercised  oA^er  the  school  formed  at  Salamanca  an  influ- 
ence Avhich  belongs  to  the  history  of  letters.  This 
person  AA^as  JoA^ellanos,  the  wise  magistrate  and  minis- 
ter of  Charles  the  Fourth,  and  the  victim  of  his  master  s 
uiiAvorthy  weakness  and  of  the  still  more  unAvorthy  A'en- 
geance  of  the  reigning  faA^orite.  He  AA^as  born  in  Gijon, 
in  Asturias,  in  1744,  and  from  his  earliest  youth  seems 
to  haA'e  shoAvn  that  love  of  intellectual  cultivation, 
and  that  moral  elevation  of  character,  Avhich  distin- 
guished the  Avhole  of  the  more  mature  portions  of  his 
life. 

The  position  of  his  family  AA'as  such,  that  all  the 
means  for  a careful  education  to  be  found  in  Spain  AA^ere 
open  to  him;  and,  as  he  Avas  originally  destined  to  the 
higher  dignities  of  the  Church,  he  Avas  sent  to  study 
philosophy  and  the  canon  and  civil  laAv  at  Oviedo,  Avi- 
la, Alcala  de  Henares,  and  Madrid.  But,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  take  the  irrevocable  step  that  Avould  haA'e 
bound  him  to  an  ecclesiastical  life,  some  of  his  friends, 
and  especially  the  distinguished  statesman,  Juan  Arias 
de  Saavedra,  Avho  Avas  like  a second  father  to  him,  inter- 
fered, and  changed  his  destination.  The  consequence 
of  this  inteiwention  was,  that,  in  1767,  he  Avas  sent  as 
a judicial  magistrate  to  Seville,  Avhere,  by  his  humane 
spirit,  and  his  disinterested  and  earnest  deA'otion  to  the 
duties  of  a ditflcult  and  disagreeable  place,  he  made  him- 

8 “ Obras  Poeticas  de  Nicasio  and  archaisms,  the  last  of  which  have 
Alvarez  de  Cienfuegos,”  Madrid,  been  made,  though  without  sufficient 
1816,  2 tom.  12mo.  His  style  is  reason,  a ground  of  complaint  against 
complained  of,  both  for  neologisms  Melendez. 

38 


VOL.  111. 


298  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

self  generally  loved  and  respected ; while,  at  the  same 
time,  by  his  study  of  political  economy  and  the  founda- 
tions of  all  just  legislation,  he  prepared  the  way  for  his 
OAvn  future  eminence  in  the  affairs  of  his  country. 

But  the  spirit  of  Jovellanos  was  of  kindred  Avith 
AAdiatever  Avas  noble  and  elevated.  At  Seville,  he  early 
discovered  the  merit  of  Diego  Gonzalez,  and  through 
him  Avas  led  into  a correspondence  with  Melendez. 
One  result  of  this  is  still  to  be  found  in  the  poetical 
Epistle  of  Jovellanos  to  his  friends  in  Salamanca,  ex- 
horting them  to  rise  to  the  highest  strains  of  poetry. 
Another  was  the  establishment  of  a connection  betAveen 
himself  and  Melendez,  Avhich,  while  it  was  important  to 
the  young  school  at  Salamanca,  led  Jovellanos  to  give 
more  of  his  leisure  to  the  elegant  literature  he  had 
ahvays  loved,  but  from  Avhich  the  serious  business  of 
life  had,  for  some  time,  much  separated  him. 

In  consequence  of  an  accidental  conversation,  he 
Avrote  at  Seville  his  prose  comedy  of  “ The  Honored 
Criminal,”  Avhich  had  a remarkable  success  ; and  in 
1769  he  prepared  a poetical  tragedy  on  the  subject  of 
Pelayo,  which  Avas  not  printed  till  several  years  after- 
Avard.  Shorter  poetical  compositions,  sometimes  graA^e 
and  sometimes  gay,  served  to  divert  his  mind  in  the  in- 
tervals of  severe  labor ; and  when,  after  a period  of  ten 
years,  he  left  the  brilliant  capital  of  Andalusia,  his  po- 
etical Epistle  to  his  friends  there  shoAvs  hoAv  deeply  he 
felt  that  he  Avas  leaving  behind  him  the  happiest  period 
of  his  life. 

This  Avas  in  1778,  Avhen  he  Avas  called  to  Madrid,  as 
one  of  the  principal  magistrates  of  the  capital  and  court ; 
a place  that  brought  him  again  into  the  administration 
of  criminal  justice,  from  Avhich,  during  his  stay  at  Se- 
Aille,  he  had  been  relieved.  His  duties  Avere  distaste- 


Chap.  V.] 


JOVELLANOS. 


299 


ful  to  his  nature,  but  he  fulfilled  them  faithfully,  and 
consoled  himself  by  intercourse  with  such  men  as  Cam- 
y»omanes  and  Cabarrus,  Avho  devoted  themselves,  as  he 
did,  to  the  great  task  of  raising  the  condition  of  their 
country.  Of  course,  he  had  now  little  leisure  for  po- 
etry. But,  being  accidentally  employed  on  affairs  of 
consequence  at  the  Paular  convent,  he  was  so  struck 
by  the  solemn  scenery  in  which  it  stood,  and  the  tran- 
quil lives  of  its  recluse  inhabitants,  that  his  poetical 
spirit  broke  out  afresh  in  an  address  to  Mariano  Colon, 
one  of  the  family  of  the  great  discoverer  of  America, 
and  afterwards  its  head ; — a beautiful  epistle,  full  of 
the  severe  genius  of  the  place  that  inspired  it,  and  of 
its  author’s  longing  for  a repose  his  spirit  was  so  well 
fitted  to  enjoy. 

In  1780,  he  was  raised  to  a place  in  the  Council  of 
Orders,  where  he  had  more  leisure,  and  was  able  to 
give  his  time  to  higher  objects ; — some  of  the  results  of 
which  are  to  be  seen  in  his  report  to  the  government 
on  the  military  and  religious  Orders  of  Knighthood ; in 
his  system  of  instruction  for  the  Imperial  College  of 
Calatrava;  in  his  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  History, 
as  a necessary  part  of  the  wise  study  of  jurisprudence ; 
and  in  other  similar  labors,  which  proved  him  to  be 
incontestably  an  excellent  prose-writer,  and  the  first 
philosophical  statesman  in  the  kingdom. 

At  the  same  time,  however,  he  amused  himself  with 
elegant  literature,  and  took  great  solace  in  collecting 
around  him  the  poets  and  men  of  letters  whom  he  loved. 
In  1785,  he  wrote  several  burlesque  ballads  on  the 
quarrels  of  Huerta,  Yriarte,  and  Forner  about  the  thea- 
tre; and  the  next  year  published  two  satires  in  blank 
verse  and  in  the  style  of  Juvenal,  rebukmg  the  corrupt- 
ed manners  of  his  times.  xHl  of  them  were  received 


300 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


with  favor;  and  the  ballads,  though  not  printed  till 
long  afterwards,  were  perhaps  only  the  more  effective 
because  they  were  circulated  in  manuscript,  and  so 
became  matters  of  great  interest. 

Persons  who  held  the  tone  implied  in  such  a course 
of  public  labors  might  be  sustained  at  the  court  of 
Charles  the  Third,  but  were  little  likely  to  enjoy  regard 
at  that  of  his  son.  In  1790,  two  years  after  Charles 
the  Fourth  ascended  the  throne.  Count  Cabarrus  not 
only  fell  from  power,  but  was  thrown  into  prison ; 
and  Jovellanos,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  defend  him, 
was  sent  to  Asturias  in  a sort  of  honorable  exile,  that 
lasted  eight  years.  But  he  served  his  fellow-men  as 
gladly  in  disgrace  as  he  did  in  power.  Hardly,  there- 
fore, had  he  reached  his  native  city,  when  he  set  about 
urging  forward  all  public  improvements  that  he  deemed 
useful;  laboring  in  whatever  related  to  the  mines  and 
roads,  and  especially  in  whatever  related  to  the  general 
education  of  the  people,  with  the  most  disinterested  zeal. 
During  this  period  of  enforced  retirement,  he  made 
many  reports  to  the  government  on  different  subjects 
connected  with  the  general  welfare,  and  wrote  his  ex- 
cellent tract  “ On  Public  Amusements,”  afterwards  pub- 
lished by  the  Academy  of  History,  and  his  elaborate 
treatise  on  Legislation  in  Relation  to  Agriculture,  which 
extended  his  reputation  throughout  Europe,  and  has 
been  the  basis  of  all  that  has  been  wisely  undertaken 
in  Spain  on  that  difficult  subject  ever  since. 

In  1797,  Count  Cabarrus  was  restored  to  the  favor 
of  Godoy,  Prince  of  the  Peace,  and  Jovellanos  was  re- 
called to  court  and  made  Minister  of  Justice.  But  his 
season  of  favor  was  short.  Godoy  still  hated  the  ele- 
vated views  of  the  man  to  whom  he  had  reluctantly 
delegated  a small  portion  of  his  own  power ; and  in 


Chap.  V.] 


JOVELLANOS. 


301 


1798,  under  the  pretext  of  devoting  him  to  his  old  em- 
ployments, he  was  again  exiled  to  the  mountains  of 
Asturias,  which,  like  so  many  other  distinguished  men 
that  have  sprung  from  them,  he  loved  with  a fond 
prejudice  that  he  did  not  care  to  disguise. 

This  exile,  however,  did  not  satisfy  the  jealous  favor- 
ite. In  1801,  partly  through  a movement  of  the  Inqui- 
sition, and  still  more  through  a political  intrigue,  Jove- 
llanos  Avas  suddenly  seized  in  his  bed,  and,  in  violation 
both  of  law  and  decency,  carried,  like  a common  felon, 
across  the  Avhole  kingdom,  and  embarked  at  Barcelona 
for  Majorca.  There  he  was  confined,  first  in  a convent 
and  afterwards  in  a fortress,  Avith  such  rigor,  that  all 
communication  Avith  his  friends  and  with  the  affairs  of 
the  Avorld  was  nearly  cut  off ; and  there  he  remained, 
for  seA^en  long  years,  exposed  to  privations  and  trials 
that  undermined  his  health  and  broke  doAvn  his  consti- 
tution. At  last  came  the  abdication  and  fall  of  his 
AA^eak  and  ungrateful  sovereign.  “ And  then,”  says 
Southey,  in  his  “ History  of  the  Peninsular  War,” 
“next  to  the  punishment  of  Godoy,  Avhat  all  men  most 
desired  Avas  the  release  of  Jovellanos.”  He  Avas,  there- 
fore, at  once  brought  back,  and  eA'eryAvhere  Avelcomed 
Avith  the  affection  and  respect,  that  he  had  earned  by  so 
many  services  and  through  such  unjust  sufferings. 

His  infii-mities,  lioweA’er,  Avere  very  oppresswe  to  him. 
He  declined,  therefore,  all  public  employments,  eA’en 
among  his  friends  AAdio  adhered  to  the  cause  of  their 
country;  he  indignantly  rejected  the  proposal  of  the 
French  invaders  to  become  one  of  the  principal  minis- 
ters of  state  in  the  neAV  order  of  things  they  hoped  to 
establish ; and  then  sloAvly  and  sadly  retired,  to  seek 
among  his  native  mountains  the  repose  he  needed.  But 
he  was  not  permitted  long  to  remain  there.  As  soon 

z 


302  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

as  the  first  central  Junta  was  organized  at  Seville, 
he  was  sent  to  it  to  represent  his  native  province,  and 
stood  forth  in  its  councils  the  leading  spirit  in  the 
darkest  and  most  disheartening  moments  of  the  great 
contest  of  his  country  for  existence.  On  the  dissolution 
of  that  body,  — which  was  dissolved  at  his  earnest  de- 
sire,— he  again  returned  home,  broken  down  with  years, 
labors,  and  sufferings ; trusting  that  he  should  now  be 
permitted  to  end  his  days  in  peace. 

But  no  man  with  influence  such  as  his  could  then 
have  peace  in  Spain.  Like  others,  in  those  days  of  rev- 
olution, he  was  assailed  by  the  fierce  spirit  of  faction, 
and  in  1811  replied  triumphantly  to  his  accusers  in  a 
defence  of  what  may  be  considered  his  administration 
of  Spain  in  the  two  preceding  years,  written  with  the 
purity,  elegance,  and  gravity  of  manner  which  marked 
his  best  days,  and  with  a moral  fervor  even  more  elo- 
quent than  he  had  shown  before.  As  he  approaches 
the  conclusion  of  this  personal  vindication,  admirable 
alike  for  its  modesty  and  its  power,  he  says,  with  a sor- 
row he  does  not  strive  to  conceal : — 

“And  now  that  I am  about  to  lay  down  my  pen,  I 
feel  a secret  trouble  at  my  heart,  Avhich  will  disturb  the 
rest  of  my  life.  It  has  been  impossible  for  me  to  defend 
myself  without  offending  others ; and  I fear,  that,  for 
the  first  time,  I shall  begin  to  feel  I have  enemies  whom 
I have  myself  made  such.  But,  wounded  in  that  honor 
which  is  my  life,  and  asking  in  vain  for  an  authority 
that  would  protect  and  rescue  me,  I have  been  com- 
pelled to  attempt  my  own  defence  by  my  own  pen ; the 
only  weapon  left  in  my  hands.  To  use  it  with  abso- 
lute moderation,  when  I was  driven  on  by  an  anguish 
so  sharp,  was  a hard  task.  One  more  dexterous  in  such 
contests  might,  by  the  cunning  of  his  art,  have  oftener 


Chap.  V.] 


JOVELLANOS. 


303 


inflicted  wounds,  and  received  them  more  rarely;  but, 
feeling  myself  to  be  fiercely  attacked,  and  coming  to  the 
contest  unskilled  and  alone,  I threw  my  unprotected 
person  into  it,  and,  in  order  to  free  myself  from  the  more 
imminent  danger  before  me,  took  no  thought  of  any  that 
might  follow.  Indeed,  such  was  the  impulse  by  which 
I was  driven  on,  that  I lost  sight,  at  once,  of  consid- 
erations which,  at  another  time,  might  well  have  pre- 
vailed with  me.  Veneration  for  public  authority,  re- 
spect for  official  station,  the  private  affections  of  friend- 
ship and  personal  attachment,  — every  thing  within 
me  yielded  to  the  love  of  justice,  and  to  the  earnest 
desire  that  truth  and  innocence  should  triumph  over 
calumny  and  falsehood.  And  can  I,  after  this,  be  par- 
doned, either  by  those  who  have  assailed  me,  or  by  those 
who  have  refused  me  their  protection  Surely  it  mat- 
ters little.  The  time  has  come  in  which  all  disapproba- 
tion, except  that  of  honorable  men  and  the  friends  of 
justice,  must  be  indifferent  to  me.  For  now  that  I find 
myself  fast  approaching  the  final  limits  of  human  life, 
now  that  I am  alone  and  in  poverty,  without  a home 
or  a shelter,  what  remains  for  me  to  ask,  beyond  the 
glory  and  liberty  of  my  country,  but  leave  to  die  with 
the  good  name  I have  labored  to  earn  in  its  service ” 
At  the  moment  when  this  eloquent  defence  of  himself 
was  published,  the  French,  by  a sudden  incursion,  took 
military  possession  of  his  native  city;  and  he  hurried 
for  safety  on  board  a slight  vessel,  hardly  knowing 
whither  his  course  should  be  directed.  After  suffering 
severely  from  a storm  of  eight  days’  continuance  in  the 
Bay  of  Biscay,  he  disembarked  to  obtain  relief  at  the 
obscure  port  of  Vega.  But  his  strength  was  gone;  and 
on  the  27th  of  November,  within  forty-eight  hours  from 
the  time  of  his  landing,  he  died.  He  was  nearly  sixty- 
eight  years  old. 


304 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


Jovellanos  left  behind  him  few  men,  in  any  country, 
of  a greater  elevation  of  mind,  and  fewer  still  of  a purer 
or  more  irreproachable  character.  Whatever  he  did 
was  for  Spain  and  his  fellow-men,  to  whose  service  he 
devoted  himself  alike  in  the  days  of  his  happiness  and 
of  his  suffering;  — in  his  influence  over  the  school  of 
Salamanca,  when  he  exhorted  them  to  raise  the  tone  of 
their  poetry,  no  less  than  in  the  war-cry  of  his  odes  to 
cheer  on  his  countrymen  in  their  conflict  for  national 
independence ; — in  his  patient  counsels  for  the  cause 
of  education,  when  he  was  an  exile  in  Asturias  or  a 
prisoner  in  Majorca,  no  less  than  in  the  exercise  of 
his  authority  as  a magistrate  and  a minister  of  state  to 
Charles  the  Fourth,  and  as  the  head  of  the  government 
at  Seville.  He  lived,  indeed,  in  times  of  great  trouble, 
but  his  virtues  were  equal  to  the  trials  that  W'ere  laid 
upon  them,  and  when  he  died,  in  a wretched  and  com- 
fortless inn,  he  had  the  consolation  of  believing  that 
Spain  would  be  successful  in  the  struggle  he  had  as- 
sisted to  lead  on,  and  of  knowing,  in  his  own  heart, 
what  the  Cortes  afterwards  declared  to  the  Avorld,  that 
he  was  “a  man  Avell  deserving  of  his  country.” “ 


9 “ Coleccion  de  las  Obras  de  Don 
Gaspar  Melchior  de  Jovellanos,”  Ma- 
drid, 1830-32, 7 tom.  8vo.  A declama- 
tory prose  satire  on  the  state  of  Spain 
in  the  time  of  Charles  IV.,  supposed 
to  have  been  delivered  in  the  Amphi- 
theatre of  Madrid,  in  1796,  has  been 
attributed  to  Jovellanos.  It  is  entitled 
Pan  y Toros,”  or  Bread  and  Bull- 
fip^hts,  from  the  old  Roman  cry  of 
“ Panem  et  Circenses,”  and  was  sup- 
pressed as  soon  as  it  was  published, 
but  has  often  been  printed  since. 
Among  other  distinctions,  it  enjoyed 
the  singular  one  of  being  translated 
and  privately  printed,  in  1813,  on 
lioard  a British  man-of-war,  stationed 
in  the  Mediterranean.  But  it  is  not 
the  work  of  Jovellanos,  though  it  has 


almost  always  borne  his  name  on  the 
successive  editions.  Jovellanos  was 
familiar  with  English  literature,  and 
translated  the  first  book  of  the  “ Para- 
dise Lost,”  hut  not  very  successfully. 
For  notices  of  him,  see  Memorias  de 
Jovellanos,  por  Don  Agustin  Cean  Ber- 
mudez, Madrid,  1814,  12mo ; the  Life 
at  the  end  of  his  collected  Works; 
Lord  Holland's  Life  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
1817,  Tom.  11. , where  is  a beautiful 
tribute  to  him,  worthy  of  Mr.  Fox’s 
nephew ; and  Llorente,  Tom.  11.  p. 
540,  and  Tom.  IV.  p.  122,  where  are 
recorded  some  of  his  shameful  perse- 
cutions. The  name  of  Jovellanos  is 
sometimes  written  Jove  Llanos ; and, 
I believe,  was  always  so  written  by 
his  ancestors. 


Chap.  V.] 


MUNOZ.  — ESCOIQUIZ. 


305 


One  historical  work  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Fourth  should  not  be  forgotten.  It  was  by  Juan  Bau- 
tista Munoz,  and  was  undertaken  by  the  esi^ecial  order 
of  Charles  the  Third,  who  demanded  of  its  author  a 
complete  history  of  the  Spanish  discoveries  and  con- 
quests in  America.  This  was  in  1779.  But  Munoz 
encountered  many  obstacles.  The  members  of  the 
Academy  of  History  were  not  well  disposed  towards 
an  undertaking,  which  seemed  to  fall  within  their  own 
jurisdiction;  and  when  he  had  finished  the  first  portion, 
they  subjected  it,  by  the  royal  permission,  to  an  exami- 
nation, which,  from  its  length  even  more  than  its  rigor, 
threatened  to  prevent  the  work  from  being  printed  at 
all.  This,  however,  was  stopped  by  a summary  order 
from  the  king ; and  the  first  volume,  bringing  down  the 
history  to  the  year  1500,  was  published  in  1793.  But 
no  other  follow'ed  it ; and  since  the  death  of  Munoz, 
which  occurred  in  1799,  when  he  W'as  fifty-four  years 
old,  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  resume  the  work.  It 
therefore  remains  just  as  he  then  left  it,  — a fragment, 
written,  indeed,  in  a philosophical  spirit  and  with  a 
severe  simplicity  of  style,  but  of  small  value,  because 
it  embraces  so  inconsiderable  a portion  of  the  subject 
to  which  it  is  devoted.'” 

An  epic  attempt  of  the  same  period  is  of  still  less 
importance.  It  is  “ Mexico  Conquered,”  an  heroic  poem 
in  twenty-six  books,  and  about  twenty-five  thousand 
lines,  beginning  with  the  demand  of  Cortes,  at  Tlas- 
cala,  to  be  received  in  person  by  Montezuma,  and  end- 

'0  “ Historia  del  Nuevo  Mundo,  por  the  third  volume  of  the  Memoirs  of 
Don  Juan  Bautista  Munoz,”  Madrid,  the  Academy,  a defence  of  his  His- 
1793,  small  folio.  Foster,  Bib.,  tory,  and  two  or  three  Latin  treatises, 
Tom.  II.  p.  191.  Memorias  de  la  are  all  that  I know  of  his  works,  ex- 
Acad.  de  la  Historia,  Tom.  I.  p.  Ixv.  cept  the  History. 

The  eulogy  of  Lebrixa,  by  Munoz,  in 

39  z* 


VOL.  III. 


306 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


ing  with  the  fall  of  Mexico  and  the  capture  of  Guati- 
raozin.  Its  author  was  Escoiquiz,  who,  as  the  tutor 
of  Ferdinand,  Prince  of  Asturias,  and  his  adviser  in 
the  troubles  of  the  Escurial,  of  Aranjuez,  and  of  Ba- 
yonne, showed  an  honorable  character,  which  at  differ- 
ent times  brought  upon  him  the  vengeance  of  the  Prince 
of  the  Peace,  of  Charles  the  Fourth,  of  Bonaparte,  and. 
at  last,  of  Ferdinand  himself 

The  literary  ambition  of  Escoiquiz,  however,  is  of 
both  an  earlier  and  later  date  than  this  unhappy  in- 
terval, when  his  upright  spirit  was  so  tried  by  political 
persecutions.  In  1797  he  published  a translation  of 
Young’s  “ Night  Thoughts”  ; and,  while  he  was  a pris- 
oner in  France,  from  1808  to  1814,  he  prepared  a 
Spanish  version  of  Milton’s  “ Paradise  Lost,”  which 
showed,  at  least,  with  what  pleasure  he  gave  himself 
up  to  letters,  and  what  a solace  they  were  to  him  under 
his  privations  and  misfortunes.  His  “Mexico”  was  first 
printed  in  1798.  It  is  cast  more  carefully  into  an  epic 
form  than  were  the  heroic  poems  that  abounded  in  the 
days  of  the  Philips,  and  is  sustained  more  than  they 
generally  were  by  such  supernatural  Christian  machin- 
ery as  was  first  used  with  effect  by  Tasso.  But,  like 
them,  it  is  not  without  cold,  allegorical  personages,  who 
play  parts  too  important  in  the  action ; while,  on  the 
other  hand,  its  faithful  history  of  events,  its  unity  of  de- 
sign, and  its  regular  proportions,  are  no  sufficient  com- 
pensation for  its  ill-constructed  stanzas  and  its  chron- 
icling dulness.  The  history  of  Solis  is  much  more  in- 
teresting and  poetical  than  this  wearisome  romantic- 
epic,  which  owes  to  that  historian  nearly  all  its  facts." 

“Mexico  Conquistada,  Poema  subject  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico  pre- 
Heroico,  por  Don  Juan  de  Escoi-  ceded  that  of  Escoiquiz  by  about  forty 
quiz,”  Madrid,  1798,  3 tom.  8vo.  A years.  It  was  by  Francisco  Ruiz  de 
still  more  unhappy  epic  attempt  on  the  Leon,  and  is  entitled  “ La  Hernandia. 


Chap.  V.] 


MORATIN  THE  YOUNGER. 


807 


Leandro  Moratin,  son  of  the  poet  who  flourished  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Third,  was,  in  some  respects,  a 
{greater  sufferer  from  the  convulsions  of  the  times  in 
which  he  lived  than  Escoiquiz,  and  in  all  respects 
more  distinguished  in  the  world  of  letters.  His  prin- 
cipal success,  however,  was  in  the  drama,  where  he 
must  hereafter  he  more  fully  noticed.  Here,  therefore, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  say,  that,  in  his  lyric  and  mis- 
cellaneous poetry,  he  was  a follower  of  his  father,  modi- 
f}ing  his  manner  so  far  under  the  influence  of  Conti,  an 
Italian  man  of  letters  who  lived  long  at  Madrid,  that, 
in  his  shorter  pieces,  the  Italian  terseness  is  quite  ap- 
parent and  gives  a finish  to  the  surface,  though  the 
material  beneath  may  be  quite  Castilian.  This  is  par- 
ticularly true  of  his  odes  and  sonnets,  and  of  a striking 
Chorus  of  the  Spirits  of  the  Patriarchs  of  the  Old  Tes- 
ment  awaiting  the  Appearance  of  the  Saviour ; a solemn 
composition,  breathing  the  fervent  spirit  of  Luis  of 
Granada.  His  ballads,  on  the  other  hand,  though  fin- 
ished with  great  care,  are  more  national  in  their  tone 
than  any  thing  else  he  has  left  us.  But  the  poems  that 
please  us  best  and  interest  us  most  are  those  that  show 
his  own  temper  and  affections ; such  as  his  “ Epistle  to 
Jovellanos,”  and  his  “ Ode  on  the  Death  of  Conde,”  the 
historian. 

In  none  of  his  personal  relations,  however,  does 
INIoratin  appear  to  such  obvious  advantage  as  in  the 
difficult  ones  in  which  he  stood  at  different  times  with 
the  Prince  of  the  Peace.  To  that  profligate  minister 
he  owed,  not  only  all  his  means  for  training  himself 
as  a dramatic  writer,  but  the  position  in  society  which 
insured  his  success;  and  when  the  day  of  retribution 

Triunfos  de  la  Fe”  (Madrid,  1755,  dred  pages,  and  sixteen  hundred  oc- 
4to);  a poem  making  nearly  four  hun-  tave  stanzas. 


308 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  IIL 


came,  and  his  patron  fell,  as  he  deserved  to  fall,  Mora- 
tin,  though  he  suffered  in  every  way  from  his  changed 
condition  and  the  persecution  of  the  enemies  of  the 
Prince,  refused  to  join  their  cry  against  the  crushed 
favorite.  He  said  truly  and  nobly,  “ I was  neither  his 
friend,  nor  his  counsellor,  nor  his  servant ; but  all  that 
I was  I owed  to  him ; and,  although  we  have  now-a-days 
a convenient  philosophy,  which  teaches  men  to  receive 
benefits  without  gratitude,  and,  when  circumstances 
alter,  to  pay  with  reproach  favors  asked  and  received,  I 
value  my  own  good  opinion  too  much  to  seek  such  in- 
famy.” A person  who  acted  under  the  impulse  of  prin- 
ciples so  generous  was  not  made  for  success  in  the 
reign  of  Ferdinand  the  Seventh.  It  is  not  remarkable, 
therefore,  that  nearly  all  the  latter  part  of  Moratin’s 
life  was  spent,  either  voluntarily  or  involuntarily,  in 
foreign  countries,  and  that  he  died  at  last  in  want  and 
exile. 

The  last  of  these  miscellaneous  writers  of  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  Fourth  that  should  be  mentioned  is 
Quintana,  who,  like  Jovellanos,  Moratin,  and  Escoiquiz, 
suffered  much  from  the  violence  of  the  revolutions 
through  which  they  all  passed,  but,  unlike  them,  has 
survived  to  enjoy  a serene  and  honored  old  age.  He 
was  born  at  Madrid  in  1772,  but  received  the  most 
effective  part  of  his  literary  education  at  Salamanca, 
where  he  acknowledged  the  influence  of  Melendez  and 
Cienfuegos.  His  profession  was  the  law ; and  he  began 
the  serious  business  of  life  in  the  capital,  kindly  en- 

12  “ Obras  de  L.  F.  Moratin,”  marks  on  the  Prince  of  the  Peace  oc- 
Madrid,  1830  - 31,  four  vols.  8vo,  cur,  at  p.  335,  and  a notice  of  his  re- 
divided into  six,  prepared  by  himself,  lations  with  Conti  at  p.  342.  An  un- 
and  published  by  the  Academy  of  His-  reasonably  laudatory  criticism  of  his 
tory  after  his  death.  His  Life  is  in  works  is  to  be  found  in  the  first  vol- 
Vol.  I.,  and  his  miscellaneous  poems  ume  of  Hermosilla’s  “Juicio.” 
are  in  the  last  volume,  where  the  re- 


Chap.  V.] 


QUINTANA. 


309 


couraged  by  Jovellanos.  But  he  preferred  letters ; and 
a small  society  of  intellectual  friends,  that  assembled 
every  evening  at  his  house,  soon  stimulated  his  prefer- 
ence into  a passion.  In  1801  he  ventured  to  print  his 
tragedy  of  “ The  Duke  of  Viseo,”  imitated  from  “ The 
Castle  Spectre”  of  Lewis;  and  in  1805  he  produced  on 
the  stage  his  “ Pelayo,”  intended  to  rouse  his  country- 
men to  a resistance  of  foreign  oppression,  by  a striking- 
example  from  their  own  history.  The  former  had  little 
success ; but  the  latter,  though  written  according  to  the 
doctrines  of  the  severer  school,  struck  a chord  to  which 
the  hearts  of  the  audience  gladly  answered. 

Meantime,  between  these  two  attempts,  he  published, 
in  1802,  a small  volume  of  poetry,  almost  entirely  lyric, 
taking  the  same  noble  and  patriotic  tone  he  had  taken 
in  his  successful  tragedy,  and  showing  a spirit  more 
deep  and  earnest  than  was  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
school  of  Salamanca,  to  which,  in  his  address  to  Me- 
lendez, he  leaves  no  doubt  that  he  now  gladly  asso- 
ciated himself  In  a similar  spirit  he  j)ublished,  in 
1807,  a single  volume  contaming  five  lives  of  distin- 
guished Spaniards,  who,  like  the  Cid  and  the  Great 
Captain,  had  successfully  fought  the  enemies  of  their 
country  at  home  and  abroad ; and  almost  simultane- 
ously he  prepared  three  volumes  of  selections  from  the 
best  Spanish  poets,  accompanying  them  with  critical 
notices,  which,  if  more  slight  than  might  have  been 
claimed  from  one  like  Quintana,  and  less  generous  in 
the  praise  they  bestow  than  they  ought  to  have  been, 
are  yet  national  in  their  temper,  and  better  than  any 
thing  else  of  their  kind  in  the  language.  Both  show  a 
too  willing  imitation  of  the  French  manner,  and  contain 
occasional  Gallicisms ; but  both  are  written  in  a clear 
and  graceful  prose,  both  were  well  received,  as  they 


310  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE,  [Period  III. 

deserved  to  be,  and  both,  were,  long  afterwards,  further 
continued  by  their  accomplished  author ; the  first  by  the 
addition  of  four  important  lives,  and  the  last  by  extracts 
from  the  miscellaneous  poets  of  a later  period,  and 
from  several  of  the  best  of  the  elder  epics. 

But  though  the  taste  of  Quintana  was  somewhat 
inclined  to  the  literature  of  France,  he  was  a Spaniard 
at  heart,  and  a faithful  one.  Even  before  the  French 
invasion  he  had  so  carefully  kept  himself  aloof  from  the 
influence  and  patronage  of  the  Prince  of  the  Peace, 
that,  though  belonging  almost  strictly  to  the  same 
school  of  poetry  with  Moratin,  these  two  distinguished 
men  lived  at  Madrid,  imperfectly  known  to  each  other, 
and  in  fact  as  heads  of  different  literary  societies,  whose 
intercourse  was  not  so  kindly  as  it  should  have  been. 
But  the  moment  the  revolution  of  1808  broke  out, 
Quintana  sprang  to  the  place  for  which  he  felt  himself 
called.  He  published  at  once  his  effective  “ Odes  to 
Emancipated  Spain”;  he  threw  out,  in  the  journals  of 
the  time,  whatever  he  thought  would  excite  his  coun- 
trymen to  resist  their  invaders ; he  became  the  secretary 
to  the  Cortes  and  to  the  regency ; and  he  wrote  many 
of  the  powerful  proclamations,  manifestos,  and  addresses 
that  distinguished  so  honorably  the  career  of  the  dif- 
ferent administrations  to  which  he  belonged  during 
their  struggle  for  national  independence.  In  short,  he 
devoted  all  that  he  possessed  of  talent  or  fortune  to  the 
service  of  his  country  in  the  day  of  its  sorest  trial. 

But  he  was  ill  rewarded  for  it.  Much  of  what 
had  been  done  by  the  representatives  of  the  Spanish 
people  in  the  name  of  Ferdinand  the  Seventh,  during 
his  forced  detention  in  France,  was  unwelcome  to  that 
shortsighted  monarch;  and,  as  soon  as  he  returned  to 
Madrid,  in  1814,  a persecution  was  begun  of  those  who 


Chap.  V.] 


QUINTANA. 


311 


had  most  contributed  to  the  adoption  of  these  unwel- 
come measures.  Among  the  more  obnoxious  persons 
was  Quintana,  who  was  thrown  into  prison  in  the  for- 
tress of  Pamplona,  and  remained  there  six  miserable 
years,  interdicted  from  the  use  of  writing-materials, 
and  cut  otf  from  all  intercourse  with  his  friends.  The 
changes  of  1820  unexpectedly  released  him,  and  raised 
him  for  a time  to  greater  distinction  than  he  had  enjoyed 
before.  But,  three  years  later,  another  polj^tical  revolu- 
tion took  from  him  all  his  employments  and  influence ; 
and  he  retired  to  Estremadura,  where  he  occupied  him- 
self with  letters  till  new  changes  and  the  death  of  the 
king  restored  him  to  the  old  public  offices  he  had  filled 
so  well,  adding  to  his  former  honors  that  of  a peer  of 
the  realm.  But  from  the  days  when  he  first  attracted 
public  regard  by  his  noble  Odes  on  the  Ocean,  and  on 
the  beneficent  expedition  sent  to  America  with  the  great 
charity  of  Vaccination,  letters  have  been  his  chosen  em- 
ployment ; — his  pride,  when  he  cheered  on  his  coun- 
trymen to  resist  oppression ; his  consolation  in  prison 
and  in  exile;  his  crown  of  honor  in  an  honored  old 
age.*^ 


^3  “Poesias  de  M.  J.  Quintana,” 
Madrid,  1821,  2 tom.  8vo.  The  lyri- 
cal portion  has  been  often  reprinted 
since  1802,  when  the  first  collection 
of  his  Poems  appeared  at  Madrid,  in 


a thin  beautiful  volume  of  only  170 
pages,  12mo.  His  life  is  in  Wolfs 
excellent  Floresta,  in  Ochoa,  Ferrer 
del  Rio,  etc. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Theatre  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.  — Translations  from  the 
French.  — Original  Plays.  — Operas.  — National  Theatre.  — Cas- 
tro.— Anorbe. — Imitations  of  the  French  Theatre. — Montiano. 
— Moratin  the  Elder. — Cadahalso.  — Sebastian  y Latre., — Tri- 
GUEROS. — Yriarte.  — Ayala.  — Huerta.  — Jovellanos.  — Autos  for- 
bidden.— Public  Theatres  and  their  Parties.  — Ramon  de  la  Cruz. 
Sedano,  Cortes,  Cienfuegos,  and  others. — Huerta’s  Collection  of 
Old  Plays.  — Discussions.  — Valladares.  — Zavala.  — Comella.  — 
Moratin  the  Younger.  — State  of  the  Drama  at  the  Beginning 
OF  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

The  most  considerable  literary  movement  of  the 
eighteenth  century  in  Spain,  and  the  one  that  best 
marks  the  poetical  character  of  the  entire  period,  is  that 
relating  to  the  theatre,  which  it  was  earnestly  attempt- 
ed to  subject  to  the  rules  then  prevailing  on  the  French 
stage.  Intimations  of  such  a design  are  found  in  the 
reign  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  as  soon  as  the  War  of  the 
Succession  was  closed.  The  Marquis  of  San  Juan  be- 
gan, in  1713,  with  a translation  of  the  “Cinna”  of 
Corneille ; — the  first  tragedy  under  the  French  rules 
that  appeared  in  the  Spanish  language,  and  one  that 
was  probably  selected  for  this  distinction,  because  it 
was  well  suited  to  the  condition  of  a country,  that  had 
so  much  reason  to  seek  the  clemency  of  its  prince  in 
favor  of  many  distinguished  persons,  whom  the  civil 
war  had  led  to  resist  his  power.  ‘ But  it  was  never  rep- 

^ Montiano  y Luyando,  Discurso  de  la  Tragedia,  Madrid,  1750,  12mo, 

p.  66. 


Chap.  VI.]  DRAMA  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 


813 


resented,  and  was  soon  forgotten.  Canizares,  tlie  last  of 
the  elder  race  of  dramatists  that  showed  any  of  the  old 
spirit,  yielded  more  than  once  to  the  ncAV  school  of  taste, 
and  regarded  his  “ Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia  ” — an  absurd 
play,  for  which  the  “ Iphigenie  ” of  Racine  is  very  lit- 
tle responsible  — as  an  imitation  of  the  French  school.^ 
Neither  these,  however,  nor  plays  of  an  irregular  and 
often  vulgar  cast,  like  those  written  by  Diego  de  Torres, 
professor  of  natural  philosophy,  by  Lobo,  the  military 
otficer,  and  by  Salvo,  the  tailor,  obtained  any  permanent 
favor,  or  were  able  to  constitute  foundations  on  Avhich  to 
reconstruct  a national  drama.  As  far  as  any  thing  Avas 
heard  on  the  public  stage  Avorthy  of  its  pretensions,  it 
was  the  Avorks  of  the  old  masters  and  of  their  poor  imi- 
tators, Canizares  and  Zamora.^ 

The  Spanish  theatre,  in  fact,  Avas  noAV  at  its  loAvest 
ebb,  and  Avholly  in  the  hands  of  the  populace,  from 
whom  it  had  ahvays  received  much  of  its  character,  and 


2 He  says,  near  the  end,  that  his 
purpose  was  ‘ ‘ to  show  how  plays  are 
written  in  the  French  style.”  Plays 
arising  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
times,  and  more  in  the  forms  and 
character  of  the  preceding  century, 
were  sometimes  represented,  but  soon 
forgotten.  Of  these,  t\vo  may  be 
mentioned  as  curious.  The  first  is 
called,  like  one  of  Lope’s,  “ Suefios 
hay  que  son  Verdades,”  an  anonymous 
drama,  beginning  with  a dream  of  the 
king  of  Portugal  and  ending  with  its 
partial  fulfilment  in  the  capture  of 
Monsanto,  by  the  forces  of  Philip  V., 
in  1704.  The  other  is  by  Rodrigo 
Pero  de  Urrutia,  entitled  “Reydecre- 
tado  en  Cielo,”  and  covers  a space  of 
above  six  years,  from  the  annunciation 
by  Louis  XIV.  to  the  Duke  of  An- 
jou, in  the  first  scene,  that  the  will  of 
Charles  11.  had  made  him  king  of 
Spain,  down  to  the  victory  of  Al- 
mansa,  in  1707,  which  is  its  catastro- 
phe. Both  are  of  no  value,  and  rep- 

VOL.  III.  40 


resent  fairly,  I believe,  the  merit  of 
the  few  historical  plays  produced  in 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, in  Spain. 

3 Accounts  of  the  theatre  during 
this  sort  of  interregnum,  from  about 
1700  to  about  1790,  are  found  in  Sig- 
norelli (Storia  Critica  dei  Teatri, 
Napoli,  1813,  8vo,  Tom  IX.  pp.  50- 
236)  ; L.  F.  Moratin  (Obras,  1830, 
Tom.  11.  Parte  L,  Prologo)  ; and  four 
papers  by  Blanco  White  (in  Vols.  X. 
and  XL  of  the  New  Monthly  Maga- 
zine, London,  1824).  The  facts  and 
opinions  in  Signorelli  are  important, 
because  from  1765  to  1783  he  lived 
in  Madrid,  (Storia,  Tom.  IX.  p.  189,) 
and  belonged  to  the  club  of  the  Fonda 
de  San  Sebastian,  noticed,,  ante,  p.  274, 
several  of  wdiose  members  were  dra- 
matic writers,  and  one  of  the  standing 
subjects  fur  whose  discussions  was  the 
theatre.  Obras  Pdstumas  de  N.  F. 
Moratin,  Londres,  1825,  p.  xxiv. 

A A 


314 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


who  had  been  its  faithful  friends  in  the  days  of  its  trial 
and  adversity.  Nor  could  its  present  condition  fairly 
claim  a higher  patronage.  All  Spanish  plays  acted  for 
public  amusement  in  Madrid  were  still  represented,  as 
they  had  been  in  the  seventeenth  century,  in  open  court- 
yards, with  galleries  or  corridors  that  surrounded  them. 
To  these  court-yards  there  was  no  covering  except  in 
case  of  a shower,  and  then  the  awning  stretched  over 
them  was  so  imperfect,  that,  if  the  rain  continued,  and 
those  of  the  spectators  who  were  always  compelled  to 
stand  during  the  performance  were  too  numerous  to 
find  shelter  under  the  projecting  seats  of  the  corridors, 
the  exhibition  was  broken  up  for  the  day,  and  the  crowd 
driven  home.  There  was  hardly  any  pretence  of  scen- 
ery; the  performance  always  took  place  in  the  day- 
time; and  the  price  of  admission,  which  was  collected 
in  money  at  the  door,  did  not  exceed  a few  farthings  for 
each  spectator. 

The  second  queen  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  Isabel  Farnese, 
who  had  been  used  to  the  enjoyment  of  all  kinds  of 
scenic  exhibitions  in  Italy,  was  not  satisfied  with  this 
state  of  things.  Finding  an  ill-arranged  theatre,  in 
which  an  Italian  company  had  sometimes  acted,  she 
caused  material  additions  to  be  made  to  it,  and  required 
regular  operas  to  be  brought  out  for  her  amusement 
from  1737.  The  change  was  an  important  one.  The 
two  old  court-yards  took  the  alarm.  First  one  and  then 
the  other  began  to  erect  a new  and  more  commodious 
structure  for  theatrical  entertainments  ; and  as  they 
had  been  each  other’s  rivals  for  a century  and  a half 
in  the  awkwardness  of  their  arrangements,  no  less  than 
in  their  claims  for  public  patronage,  so  now  they  be- 
came rivals  in  a struggle  for  improvement.  Under  such 
impulses,  the  new  “ Theatre  of  the  Cross  ” was  finished 
in  1743,  and  that  of  “The  Prince,”  in  1745. 


Chap.  VI.] 


LOW  STATE  OF  THE  THEATRES. 


315 


But,  in  most  respects,  there  was  little  change.  True 
to  the  traditions  of  their  origin,  the  new  structures  were 
still  called  court-yards,  and  their  boxes,  rooms ; — the 
cazuela,  or  “ stewpan,”  was  still  kept  for  the  women, 
who  sat  there  veiled  like  nuns,  but  acting  very  little  as 
if  they  Avere  such ; — the  Alcalde  de  Corte,  or  Judge  of 
the  Municipality,  still  appeared  in  the  proscenium,  with 
his  two  clerks  behind  him,  to  keep  the  peace  or  bear 
record  to  its  breach ; — Semiramis  wore  a hooped  petti- 
coat and  high-heeled  shoes,  and  Julius  Caesar  Avas  as- 
sassinated in  a curled  periAvig  and  veh^et  court  coat, 
Avith  a feathered  Spanish  hat  under  his  arm.  The  old 
spirit,  therefore,  it  is  plain,  prevailed,  hoAvever  great 
might  be  the  improvements  made  in  the  external  ar- 
rangements and  architecture  of  the  theatres. 

One  cause  of  this  was  the  exclusive  favor  shoAvn  to 
the  opera  by  two  Italian  queens,  and  encouraged  by  the 
neAV  political  relations  of  Spain  Avith  Italy.  The  the- 
atre of  the  Buen  Retiro,  where  Calderon  had  so  often 
triumphed,  Avas  fitted  up  Avith  unAvonted  magnificence, 
by  Farinelli,  the  first  singer  of  his  time,  Avho  had  been 
brought  to  the  Spanish  court  in  order  to  soothe  the 
melancholy  of  Philip  the  Fifth,  and  Avho  still  continued 
there,  enjoying  the  especial  protection  of  Ferdinand  the 
Sixth.  Luzan  translated  Metastasio’s  “Clemency  of 
Titus  ” for  the  opening  of  the  neAV  and  gorgeous  saloon 
in'  1747 ; and  both  then,  and  for  a considerable  period 
afterwards,  all  that  the  resources  of  the  court  could 
command  in  poetry  and  music,  or  in  the  show  and  pomp 
of  theatrical  machinery,  was  lavished  on  an  exotic, 
which  at  last  failed  to  take  healthy  root  in  the  soil  of 
the  country.^ 

L.  F.  Moratin,  Prologo,  ut  sup. ; and  Pellicer,  Origen  del  Teatro,  1802, 
Tom.  I.  p.  264. 


316 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


Meantime  the  national  theatre,  neglected  by  the 
court  and  the  higher  classes,  was  given  up  to  such  writ- 
ers as  Francisco  de  Castro,  an  actor  who  sought  the 
applause  of  the  lowest  part  of  his  audience  by  vulgar 
farces,*"  and  Thomas  de  Ahorbe,  the  chaplain  of  a nun- 
nery at  Madrid,  whose  “ Paolino,”  announced  as  “ in  the 
French  fashion,”  provoked  the  just  ridicule  of  Luzan, 
and  whose  “ Virtue  conquers  Fate,”  if  no  less  extrava- 
gant, has  the  merit  of  being  an  attack  on  astrology  and 
a belief  in  planetary  influences.®  With  the  success  of 
such  absurdities,  however,  scholars  and  men  of  taste 
seem  to  have  grown  desperate.  Montiano,  a Biscayan 
gentleman,  high  in  office  at  court,  and  a member  of 
the  Academy  of  Good  Taste,  that  met  at  the  house 
of  the  Countess  of  Lemos,  led  the  way  in  an  attack 
upon  them.  He  began,  in  1750,  with  a tragedy  on  the 
Roman  story  of  Virginia,  which  he  intended  should  be 
a model  for  Spanish  serious  theatrical  compositions,  and 
which  he  accompanied  with  a long  and  well-written  dis- 
course, showing  how  far  Bermudez,  Cueva,  Virues,  and 
a few  more  of  the  old  masters,  had  been  willing  to  be 
governed  by  doctrines  similar  to  his  own. 

The  tragedy  itself,  which  comes  like  a sort  of  appen- 
dix to  this  discussion,  and  seems  intended  to  illustrate 
and  enforce  its  opinions,  is  entirely  after  the  model  of 
the  French  school,  and  especially  after  Eacine ; — all 
the  rules,  as  they  are  technically  called,  including  that 
which  requires  the  stage  never  to  be  left  vacant  during 


5 “ Alegria  Comica,”  (Zaragoza, 
Tom.  I.,  1700,  Tom.  II.,  1702,)  and 
“ Comico  Festejo,”  (Madrid,  1742,) 
are  three  small  volumes  of  entremeses, 
by  Francisco  de  Castro ; the  last  be- 
ing published  after  the  author’s  death. 
They  are  not  entirely  without  wit, 
regarded  as  caricatures ; but  they  are 
coarse,  and,  in  general,  worthless. 


6 Thomas  de  Anorbe  y Corregel 
published  his  “ Virtud  vence  al  Des- 
tine ” in  Madrid,  1735,  and  his  “ Pa- 
olino” in  1740.  He  calls  himself 
“ Capellan  del  Real  Monasterio  de  la 
Incarnacion  ” on  the  title  of  the  first 
of  these  plays,  and  inserts  two  absurd 
entremeses  of  his  own  composition  be- 
tween its  acts. 


Chap.  VI.] 


MONTIANO  Y LUYANDO. 


317 


the  continuance  of  an  act,  being  rigorously  observed. 
But  the  “ Virginia  ” is  no  less  cold  than  it  is  regular, 
and,  like  the  waters  of  the  Alps,  its  very  purity  betrays 
the  frozen  region  from  which  it  has  descended.  Its  ver- 
sification, which  consists  of  unrhymed  iambics,  is  as  for 
as  possible  removed  from  the  warmth  and  freedom  of 
the  ballad  style  in  the  elder  drama ; its  whole  movement 
is  languid ; and  the  catastrophe,  from  the  fear  of  shock- 
ing the  spectator  by  a show  of  blood  on  the  stage,  turns 
out,  in  fact,  to  be  no  catastrophe  at  all.  No  effort,  it 
is  believed,  was  made  to  bring  it  upon  the  stage,  and 
as  a printed  poem  it  produced  no  real  effect  on  public 
opinion. 

Montiano,  however,  was  not  discouraged.  In  1753  he 
published  another  critical  discourse  and  another  trage- 
dy, with  similar  merits  and  similar  defects,  taking  for 
its  subject  the  reign  and  death  of  Athaulpho,  the  Goth, 
as  they  are  found  in  the  old  chronicles.  But  this,  too, 
like  its  predecessor,  was  never  acted,  and  both  are  now 
rarely  read.’’ 

The  earliest  comedy  within  the  French  rules  that  ap- 


~ “ Discurso  sobre  las  Comedias  Es- 
panolas  de  Don  Agustin  de  Montiano  y 
Luyando,”  Madrid,  1750,  12mo ; Dis- 
curso Segundo,  Madrid,  1753,  12ino. 
They  were  translated  into  French  by 
Hermilly,  and  an  account  of  them  and 
their  author  is  given  in  Lessing’s 
VVerke,  (Berlin,  1794,  18mo,  Band 
XXIII.  p.  95,)  where  we  learn,  that 
?iIontiano  was  born  in  1697,  and  that 
he  published,  in  1729,  “ El  Robo  de 
Dina,”  which  seems  to  have  been  so 
much  in  the  tone  of  a play  with  the 
same  title,  in  the  seventeenth  volume 
of  Lope  de  Vega’s  “ Comedias,”  that 
I cannot  help  thinking  Montiano,  fol- 
lowing the  fashion  of  Cafiizares  and 
the  other  plunderers  of  the  time,  was 
indebted  largely  to  his  great  predeces- 
sor, the  enemy  of  whose  reputation  he 


afterwards  became.  The  story  of 
Athaulpho  is  from  the  Coronica  Gene- 
ral, Parte  11.  c.  22.  The  “ Virginia,” 
both  in  its  attempt  to  exhibit  Roman 
manners  and  in  its  poetical  power,  suf- 
fers severely  when  compared  with  Alfi- 
eri’s  tragedy  on  the  same  subject.  But 
the  truth  is,  Montiano  was  a slavish 
imitator  of  the  French  school,  which 
he  admired  so  much  as  to  be  unable  to 
comprehend  and  feel  what  was  best  in 
his  own  Castilian.  In  the  “ Aproba- 
cion,”  which  he  prefixed  to  the  edition 
of  iVvellaneda,  published  in  1732,  he 
says,  comparing  the  second  part  of  Don 
Quixote,  by  this  pretender,  with  the 
true  one  by  Cervantes,  — “I  think  no 
man  of  judgment  will  give  an  opinion 
in  favor  of  Cervantes,  if  he  compares 
the  two  parts  together.” 

A A* 


318 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI 


peared  in  the  Spanish  language  was  the  translation  of 
Lachaussee’s  “Prejuge  a la  Mode”  by  Luzan,  which  was 
printed  in  1751.®  It  judiciously  preserved  the  national 
asonantes,  or  imperfect  rhymes,  throughout,  and  was 
followed,  in  1754,  by  the  “ Athalie  ” of  Pacine,  rendered 
with  much  taste,  principally  into  blank  verse,  by  Lla- 
guno  y Amirola,  Secretary  of  the  Academy  of  History. 
But  the  first  original  Spanish  comedy  formed  on  French 
models  was  the  “ Petimetra,”  or  the  Female  Fribble, 
by  Moratin  the  elder.  It  was  printed  in  1762,  and 
was  preceded  by  a dissertation,  in  which,  while  the 
merits  of  the  schools  of  Lope  and  Calderon  are  imper- 
fectly acknowledged,  their  defects  are  exhibited  in  the 
strongest  relief,  and  the  impression  left,  in  relation  to 
the  old  masters,  is  of  the  most  unfavorable  character. 

In  the  play  itself,  a similar  kind  of  deference  is  shown 
to  the  popular  prejudices  and  feelings,  which  adhered 
faithfully  to  the  old  drama  and  to  the  miserable  imita- 
tions of  it  that  continued  to  be  produced.  It  is  divided 
into  the  \hxee  jornadas  to  which  the  public  had  so  long 
been  wonted,  and  is  written  in  the  national  manner, 
sometimes  with  full  rhymes,  and  sometimes  only  Avith 
asonantes.  But  the  compromise  was  not  accepted  by 
those  to  whom  it  was  offered.  The  principal  character, 
Doha  Geronima,  is  feebly  drawn ; and,  though  the  ver- 
sification and  style  are  always  easy,  and  sometimes  beau- 
tiful, the  attempt  to  reconcile  the  irregular  genius  of 
the  elder  comedy  with  what  Moratin,  on  his  title-page, 
calls  “ the  rigor  of  art  ” was  a failure.  A correspond- 
ing effort  which  he  made  the  next  year  in  tragedy, 

8 “ La  Razon  contra  la  Moda”  tion  to  the  Marchioness  of  Sarria. 
(Madrid,  12mo,  1751)  appeared  with-  Utility  is  much  insisted  upon  ; and  the 
out  the  name  of  the  translator,  and  immorality  of  the  elder  drama  is 
contains  a modest  defence  of  the  vigorously,  but  covertly,  attacked. 
French  rules,  in  the  form  of  a Dedica- 


Chap.  VI.]  MORATIN  THE  ELDER.  — CADAH ALSO.  319 

taking  the  story  of  Lucre tia  for  his  subject,  and  adopt- 
ing even  more  fully  the  French  conventions,  was  not 
more  successful.  Neither  of  them  obtained  the  distinc- 
tion of  being  publicly  represented. 

That  honor,  however,  was  gained  in  1770,  with  much 
difficulty,  by  Moratin’s  “ Hormesinda,”  the  first  original 
drama,  under  the  canons  that  governed  Corneille  and 
Racine,  which  ever  appeared  in  a public  theatre  in 
Spain.  It  is  founded  on  events  connected  with  the  Arab 
invasion  and  the  achievements  of  Pelayo,  and  is  written, 
like  the  “Lucretia,”  in  that  irregular  verse,  partly 
rhymed  and  partly  not,  which  in  Spanish  poetry  is 
called  silva,  and  is  intended  to  have,  more  than  any 
other,  the  air  of  improvisation. 

The  partial  success  of  this  drama,  which,  notwith- 
standing an  improbable  plot,  deserved  all  the  favor  it 
received,  induced  its  author,  in  1777,  to  write  his  third 
tragedy,  “ Guzman  the  True,”  dedicating  it  to  his  pa- 
tron, the  Duke  of  Medina-Sidonia,  who  was  a descend- 
ant of  that  famous  nobleman,  and  who,  a few  years 
before,  had  himself  translated  the  “ Iphigenie  ” of  Ra- 
cine into  Spanish.  The  well-known  character  of  the 
hero,  who  chose  rather  to  have  his  son  sacrificed  by 
the  Moors  than  to  surrender  the  fortress  of  Tarifa,  if  it 
is  not  drawn  with  the  vigor  of  the  old  Castilian  chroni- 
cles or  of  the  drama  of  Guevara,  is  exhibited,  at  least, 
with  a well-sustained  consistency,  that  gives  token  of 
more  poetical  power  than  any  thing  else  produced  by 
its  author  for  the  theatre.  But  this  is  its  only  real 
merit ; and  the  last  tragedy  of  Moratin  was,  on  the 
whole,  no  more  successful,  and  no  more  deserving  of 
success,  than  the  first. 

Cadahalso,  the  friend  whom  we  have  already  noticed 
as  much  under  the  infiuence  of  Moratin,  went  one  step 


320  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

further  in  his  imitation  of  the  French  masters.  His 
“ Don  Sancho  Garcia,”  a regular,  but  feeble,  tragedy, 
printed  in  1771  and  afterwards  acted,  is  written  in  long 
lines  and  rhymed  couplets ; an  innovation  which  could 
hardly  fail  to  he  accounted  monotonous  on  a stage,  one 
of  whose  chief  luxuries  had  so  long  been  a wild  variety 
of  measures.  Nor  did  more  favor  follow  an  attempt  of 
Sebastian  y Latre  to  adjust  to  the  theories  of  the  time  two 
old  dramas,  still  often  represented,  — the  one  by  Roxas 
and  the  other  by  Moreto, — which  he  forced  within  the 
pale  of  the  three  unities,  and  for  the  public  representa- 
tions of  one  of  which,  Aranda,  the  minister  of  state, 
paid  the  charges.  Like  the  subsequent  attempts  of 
Trigueros  to  accommodate  some  of  Lope  de  Vega’s  plays 
to  the  same  system  of  opinions,  it  was  entirely  unsuc- 
cessful. The  difference  between  the  two  different  schools 
was  so  great,  and  the  effort  to  force  them  together  so 
violent,  that  enough  of  the  spirit  and  grace  of  the  origi- 
nals could  not  be  found  in  these  modernized  imitations 
to  satisfy  the  demands  of  any  audience  that  could  be 
collected  to  listen  to  them.® 


9 I know  the  plays  of  Moratin,  the 
elder,  only  in  the  pamphlets  in  which 
they  were  originally  published,  and  I 
believe  they  have  never  been  collected. 
The  “ Don  Sancho  Garcia”  was  first 
printed  in  1771,  with  the  name  of  Juan 
del  Valle,  and  in  1804  with  the  name 
of  its  author,  accompanied  the  last 
time  by  some  unfortunate  prose  imita- 
tions of  Young’s  “ Night  Thoughts,” 
and  other  miscellanies,  which  follow  it 
into  the  third  volume  of  their  author’s 
works,  1818.  Latre ’s  rifacimenti  are 
printed  in  a somewhat  showy  style, 
probably  at  the  expense  of  the  minis- 
ter of  state,  Aranda,  under  the  title 
of  “ Ensayo  sobre  el  Teatro  Espaiiol,” 
Madrid,  1773,  small  folio.  Latassa 
(Bib.  Nueva,  Tom.  V.  p.  513)  gives 
some  account  of  their  author,  who 


died  in  1792.  The  “Anzuelo  de  Feni- 
sa  ” and  the  “ Estrella  de  Sevilla,”  as 
set  to  the  three  unities  by  Trigueros, 
were  printed  both  in  Madrid  and  Lon- 
don. Of  the  last  person,  Candido  M. 
Trigueros,  it  may  be  added,  that  he 
enjoyed  a transient  reputation  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
and  that  his  principal  work,  “La  Ria- 
da,”  in  four  cantos  of  irregular  verse, 
(Sevilla,  1784,  8vo,)  on  a disastrous 
inundation  of  Seville  that  had  just  oc- 
curred, was  demolished  by  a letter  of 
Vargas,  and  a satirical  tract  which 
Forner  published  under  the  name  of 
Antonio  Varas.  I do  not  know  when 
he  died,  but  an  account  of  most  of  his 
life  and  many  of  his  works  may  be 
found  in  the  Biblioteca  of  Sempere  y 
Guarinos,  Tom.  VI. 


Chap.  VI.] 


YRIARTE.  — AYALA. 


321 


Yriarte,  better  kno^^Ti  as  a didactic  poet  and  fabulist, 
enjoys  the  distinction  of  having  produced  the  first  reg- 
ular original  comedy  that  was  publicly  represented  in 
Spain.  He  began  very  young,  with  a play  which  he  did 
not  afterwards  think  fit  to  place  among  his  collected 
works;  and,  beside  translations  from  Voltaire  and  Hes- 
touches,  and  three  or  four  attempts  of  less  consequence, 
he  wrote  two  full-length  original  comedies,  which  were 
better  than  any  thing  previously  produced  by  the  school 
to  which  he  belonged.  One  of  them,  called  “ The  Flat- 
tered Youth,”  appeared  in  1778,  and  the  other,  “The 
Ill-bred  Miss,”  ten  years  later ; — the  first  being  on  the 
subject  of  a son  spoiled  by  a foolishly  indulgent  mother, 
and  the  second  on  the  daughter  of  a rich  man  equally 
spoiled  by  the  carelessness  and  neglect  of  her  father. 
Both  are  divided  into  three  acts,  and  written  in  the  im- 
perfect rhyme  and  short  verses  always  grateful  to  Cas- 
tilian ears;  and  both  are  marked  by  good  character- 
drawing and  a pleasant,  easy  manner,  not  abounding 
in  wit  nor  sensibly  deficient  in  it.  But,  except  these 
plays  of  Yriarte  and  Moratin,  and  an  unfortunate  one 
by  Melendez  Valdes  in  1784, — founded  on  Camacho’s 
wedding,  in  “ Hon  Quixote,”  and  containing  occasion- 
ally gentle  and  pleasing  pastoral  poetry  which  ill  agrees 
with  the  rude  jesting  of  Sancho,  — nothing  that  deserves 
notice  was  done  for  comedy  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Third.*® 

Tragedy  fared  still  worse.  The  “ Numantia  De- 
stroyed,” written  by  Ayala,  a man  of  learning  and  the 
regular  censor  of  the  public  theatres  of  Madrid,  was 
acted  in  1775.  Its  subject  is  the  same  with  that  of 

The  “ Obras  de  Yriarte  ” (Ma-  called  “ Hacer  que  Hacemos,”  or 
drid,  1805,  8 tom.  12mo)  contain  all  his  Much  Cry  and  Little  Wool.  The 
plays,  except  the  first  one,  written  when  play  of  Melendez  Valdes  is  in  the 
he  was  only  eighteen  years  old,  and  second  volume  of  his  Works,  1797. 

41 


VOL.  111. 


322  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

the  “Numantia”  by  Cervantes;  but  the  horrors  of  the 
siege  it  describes  are  not  brought  home  to  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  reader  by  instances  of  individual  suffering, 
as  they  are  in  the  elder  dramatist,  and  therefore  pro- 
duce much  less  effect.  As  an  acting  drama,  however, 
it  is  not  without  merit.  Its  versification,  which  is, 
again,  an  attempt  at  a compromise  with  the  public  by 
giving  alternate  asonantes,  but  attaching  them  to  the 
long-drawn  lines  of  the  French  theatre,  is  not,  indeed, 
fortunate ; but  the  style  is  otherwise  rich  and  vigorous, 
and  the  tone  elevated.  Perhaps  its  ardent  expressions 
of  patriotic  feeling,  and  its  fierce  denunciations  of  for- 
eign oppression,  have  done  as  much  to  keep  it  on  the 
stage  as  its  intrinsic  poetical  merits. 

The  “ Paquel  ” of  Huerta,  printed  in  1778,  three 
years  after  the  “ Numantia,”  is  not  so  creditable  to  the 
author,  and  produced  a less  lasting  impression  on  the 
public.  The  story  — that  of  the  Jewess  of  Toledo, 
which  has  been  so  often  treated  by  Spanish  poets  — is 
taken  too  freely  from  a play  of  Diamante ; and  though 
Huerta  has,  in  some  respects,  given  the  materials  he 
found  there  a better  arrangement,  and  a more  grave  and 
sonorous  versification,  he  has  diminished  the  spirit  and 
naturalness  of  the  action  by  constraining  it  within  the 
hard  conventions  he  prescribed  to  himself,  and  has  ren- 
dered the  whole  drama  so  uninteresting,  that,  notwith- 
standing its  considerable  reputation  at  first,  it  was  soon 
forgotten.^* 

The  first  real  success  of  any  thing  in  the  French  style 
on  the  Spanish  stage,  though  not  in  the  classical  forms 
prescribed  by  Boileau  and  Racine,  was  obtained  by 

Ayala’s  tragedy  has  been  often  odes,  and  the  “Zaire”  of  Voltaire, 
printed.  The  “ Raquel”  is  in  Huer-  The  original  edition  of  the  Raquel  is 
ta’s  Works,  (Tom.  I.,  1786,)  with  his  anon3nTious,  and  without  date  or  place 
translations  of  the  “ Electra  ” of  Soph-  of  publication. 


Chap.  VI.] 


JOVELLANOS. 


323 


Jovellanos.  Early  in  life  lie  had  ventured  a tragedy, 
entitled  “ Pelayo,”  in  the  same  measure  with  Ayala’s 
“ Numantia,”  and  on  nearly  the  same  subject  with  the 
“Hormesinda”  of  the  elder  Moratin.  But  the  philosoph- 
ical statesman,  though  he  wrote  good  lyric  verse,  was 
not  a tragic  poet.  He  was,  however,  something  better ; 
— he  was  a really  good  man,  and  his  philanthropy 
led  him,  in  1773,  to  write  his  “Honored  Culprit,”  a 
play,  intended  to  rebuke  the  cruel  and  unavailing  sever- 
ity of  the  laws  of  his  country  against  duelling,  as  they 
then  existed.  It  is  a sentimental  comedy  in  the  manner 
of  Diderot’s  “ Natural  Son  ” ; and,  beside  that  it  has 
the  honor  of  being  the  first  attempt  of  the  kind  on  the 
Spanish  stage,  it  has  that  of  being  more  fortunate  than 
any  of  its  successors.  The  story  on  which  it  is  found- 
ed is  that  of  a gentleman,  who,  after  repeatedly  refusing 
a challenge,  kills,  in  a secret  duel,  the  infamous  hus- 
band of  the  lady  he  afterwards  marries;  and,  being 
subsequently  led  to  confess  his  crime  in  order  to  save  a 
friend,  who  is  arrested  as  the  guilty  party,  he  is  con- 
demned to  death  by  a rigorous  judge,  who  unexpectedly 
turns  out  to  be  his  own  father,  and  is  saved  from  execu- 
tion, but  not  from  severe  punishment,  only  by  the  royal 
clemency. 

How  many  opportunities  for  scenes  of  the  most  pain- 
ful interest  such  a story  afibrds  is  obvious  at  the  first 
glance.  Jovellanos  has  used  them  skilfully,  because  he 
has  done  it  in  the  simplest  and  most  direct  manner, 
with  great  warmth  of  kindly  feeling,  and  in  a style 
whose  idiomatic  purity  is  not  the  least  of  its  attractions. 
“ The  Honored  Culprit,”  therefore,  was  at  once  suc- 
cessful, and  when  well  acted,  though  its  poetical  power 
is  small,  it  can  hardly  be  listened  to  without  tears.  It 
was  first  produced  in  one  of  the  royal  theatres,  without 


324 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI 


the  knowledge  of  its  author;  then,  spreading  through- 
out Spain,  it  was  acted  at  Cadiz  at  the  same  time  both 
in  French  and  Spanish,  and,  at  last,  became  familiar  on 
the  stages  of  France  and  Germany.  Such  wide  success 
had  long  been  unknown  to  any  thing  in  Spanish  liter- 
ature.*^ 

But  from  the  time  when  the  first  attempt  was  made 
to  introduce  regular  plays  in  the  French  manner  upon 
the  Spanish  stage,  an  active  contest  had  been  going  on, 
which,  though  the  advantage  had  of  late  been  on  the 
side  of  the  innovators,  did  not  seem  likely  to  be  soon 
determined.  In  1762,  Moratin  the  elder  published 
what  he  called  “ The  Truth  told  about  the  Spanish 
Stage  ” ; — three  spirited  pamphlets,  in  which  he  attack- 
ed the  old  drama  generally,  but  above  all  the  autos  sa- 
cramentales,  not  denying  the  poetical  merit  of  those  by 
Calderon,  but  declaring  that  such  wild,  coarse,  and  blas- 
phemous exhibitions,  as  they  generally  were,  ought  not 
to  be  tolerated  in  a civilized  and  religious  community. 
So  far  as  the  autos  were  concerned,  Moratin  was  suc- 
cessful. They  were  prohibited  by  a royal  edict,  June 
17,  1765;  and  though,  even  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
it  can  hardly  be  said  that  they  have  been  entirely  driven 
out  of  the  villages,  Avhere  they  have  been  the  delight  of 
the  mass  of  the  people  from  a period  before  that  of  Al- 
fonso the  Wise,  yet  in  Madrid  and  the  larger  cities  of 
Spain  they  have  never  been  heard  since  they  were  first 
forbidden.*^ 

12  I have  the  eighth  edition  of  the  is  somewhat  singular,  that,  just  about 
“ Delinquente  Honrado,”  1803;  still  the  time  the  “ Delinquente  Honrado  ” 
printed  without  its  author’s  name,  appeared  in  Spain,  Fenouillet  pub- 
It  was  so  popular  that  it  was  several  lished  in  France  a play,  yet  found  in 
times  published  surreptitiously,  from  the  “ Theatre  du  Second  Ordre,” 
notes  taken  in  the  theatre,  and  was  with  the  exactly  corresponding  title 
once  turned  into  bad  verse,  before  Jo-  of  “ L’Honnete  Criminel.”  But  there 
vellanos  permitted  it  to  appear  from  is  no  resemblance  in  the  plots  of  the 
his  own  manuscript.  (See  Vol.  VII.  two  pieces. 

of  his  Works,  edited  by  Canedo.)  It  13  “DesengaiioalTeatroEspaSol,” 


Chap.  VI.] 


CONTEST  FOR  THE  THEATRE. 


325 


But  this  was  as  far  as  Moratin  could  prevail.  In 
the  public  secular  theatre,  generally,  his  poetry  and  wit 
produced  no  effect.  There,  two  riotous  parties  in  the 
two  audiences  of  Madrid  — distinguishing  themselves 
by  favors  worn  in  their  hats  and  led  on  by  vulgar  fri- 
ars and  rude  mechanics,  making  up  in  spirit  what 
they  wanted  in  decency,  and  readily  uniting  to  urge 
an  open  war  against  all  further  innovations  — effectu- 
ally prevented  any  of  the  regular  dramas  that  were 
written  from  being  represented  in  their  presence,  until 
1770.  The  old  masters  they  partly  tolerated;  espe- 
cially Calderon,  Moreto,  and  the  dramatists  of  the  latter 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century ; but  the  popular  favor- 
ites were  Ibanez,  Lobera,  Vicente  Guerrero,  a play-actor, 
Julian  de  Castro,  who  wrote  ballads  for  the  street  beg- 
gars and  died  in  a hospital,  and  others  of  the  same 
class ; all  as  vulgar  as  the  populace  they  delighted. 

After  Aranda  ceased  to  be  minister,  in  1773,  this  state 
of  things  was  somewhat  modified,  without  being  mate- 
rially improved.  Under  his  administration,  the  theatres 
in  the  royal  residences  had  been  opened  for  tragedy  and 
comedy;  and  translations  from  the  French  had  been 
acted  before  the  court  in  a manner  suited  to  their  sub- 
jects. The  two  popular  theatres  of  the  capital,  too,  had 
not  escaped  his  regard,  and  under  his  influence  had  been 
provided  with  better  scenery;  and,  from  1768,  gave  rep- 
resentations in  the  evening.'^ 

Still,  every  thing  was  in  a very  low  state.  A black- 
smith was  the  reigning  critic  to  be  consulted  by  those 


three  tracts,  s.  1.  12mo.,  pp.  80.  amplest  Index  Expurgatorius,  — that 
Huerta,  Escena  Espanola  Defend!-  of  i667,  (p.  84,)  — and  that  those  few 
da,  Madrid,  1786,  12mo,  p.  xliii.  are,  I believe,  all  Portuguese. 

How  long  autos  maintained  their  Ramon  de  la  Cruz  y Cano, 

place  in  Spain  maybe  seen  from  the  Teatro,  Madrid,  1786-91,  10  tom. 
fact,  that  very  few  are  forbidden  in  the  12mo,  Tom.  IX.  p.  3. 


BB 


326  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

who  sought  a hearing  on  either  stage,  and  the  more 
regular  plays,  whether  translations  that  had  been  acted 
with  success  at  court,  or  tragedies  and  comedies  of  the 
poets  already  noticed,  made  a strange  confusion  with 
those  of  the  old  masters,  which  were  still  sometimes 
heard,  and  those  of  the  favorites  of  the  mob,  whose 
works  prevailed  over  all  others  m the  theatrical  reper- 
tories and  in  the  general  regard.  But,  whatever  might 
be  produced  and  performed,  the  intervals  between  'the 
acts,  and  much  time  before  and  after  the  principal  piece, 
were  filled  up  with  tonadillas,  seguidillas,  ballads,  and 
all  the  forms  of  entremeses,  saynetes,  and  dances,  that 
had  been  common  in  the  last  century  or  invented  in  the 
present  one,  — an  act  in  a serious  and  poetical  play  be- 
ing sometimes  divided,  in  order  to  give  place  to  one  or 
another  of  them,  and  gratify  an  audience  that  seemed 
to  grow  more  and  more  impatient  of  every  thing  except 
popular  farce. 

In  this  confusion  of  the  old  and  the  new,  — of  what 
was  stiff,  formal,  and  foreign  with  what  was  rudest  and 
most  lawless  in  the  national  drama  at  home,  — a single 
writer  appeared,  who,  from  the  mere  force  of  natural 
talent,  fell  instinctively  into  a tone  not  unworthy  of  the 
theatre,  and  yet  one  that  obtained  for  him  a degree  of  fa- 
vor long  denied  to  persons  of  more  poetical  accomplish- 
ments. This  was  Bamon  de  la  Cruz,  a gentleman  of  fam- 
ily and  an  officer  of  the  government  at  Madrid,  who  was 
born  in  1731,  and  from  1765  to  the  time  of  his  death,  at 
the  end  of  the  century,  constantly  amused  the  audiences 
of  the  capital  with  dramas,  written  in  any  form  likely 
to  please  at  the  palace,  on  the  public  stages  of  the  city, 
or  in  the  houses  of  the  nobility,  who,  like  the  Duchess 


L.  F.  Moratin,  Obras,  Tom.  II.  Parte  I.,  Prologo. 


Chap.  VI.] 


RAMON  DE  LA  CRUZ. 


327 


of  Ossuna,  or  Aranda,  the  minister  of  state,  were  able 
to  indulge  in  such  a luxury  at  home. 

In  the  whole,  he  wrote  about  three  hundred  dramatic 
compositions,  but  printed  less  than  a third  of  that  num- 
ber ; most  of  those  he  published  being  farces  designed 
to  produce  a merely  popular  effect.  They  fill  ten  vol- 
umes, and  are  all  in  the  short,  national  measure  of  the 
old  drama,  mingled  occasionally,  though  rarely,  with 
other  forms  of  verse.  They  bear,  however,  very  differ- 
ent names ; some  of  them  characteristic  and  some  of 
them  not.  A few  he  calls  “ Dramatic  Caprices  ” ; ap- 
parently because  no  more  definite  title  would  be  suited 
to  their  undefined  character.  Some  he  calls  “ Saynetes 
to  be  sung,”  and  some  “ Burlesque  Tragedies.”  Others 
have  no  names  at  all,  not  even  for  their  personages,  ex- 
cept those  of  the  actors  who  represented  the  different 
parts.  While  yet  others  pass  under  the  old  designa- 
tions of  loas,  entremeses,  and  zarzuelas,  though  often 
with  a character  which  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  the  early  representations  hearing  the  same  names 
to  assume.  Occasionally,  as  in  the  case  of  the  “ Cle- 
mentina,” he  takes  pams  to  observe  all  the  rules  of 
the  French  drama;  but  they  sit  very  uneasily  upon 
him,  and  he  seldom  submits  to  them.  His  great  merit 
is  almost  entirely  confined  to  his  short  farces ; and  there- 
fore, when  Duran,  to  whom  the  Spanish  theatre  owes 
so  much,  undertook  to  publish  what  was  best  of  the 
works  of  La  Cruz,  he  rejected  all  the  rest,  and,  tak- 
ing his  materials  both  from  manuscript  sources  and 
from  what  had  been  already  published,  gives  us  mere- 
ly a hundred  and  ten  proper  “ Saynetes.” 

Their  subjects  are  various,  and  they  are  very  unequal 
in  length ; but,  amidst  all  their  varieties,  one  principle 
gave  them  a prevailing  character  and  insured  their  sue- 


328  history' OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

cess.  They  are  founded  on  the  manners  of  the  mid- 
dling and  lower  classes  of  the  city,  which  they  reflect 
freshly  and  faithfully,  whether  their  materials  are  sought 
in  the  tertulias  or  evening  parties  of  persons  in  a decent 
condition  of  life,  where  the  demure  Abate  and  the  au- 
thorized lover  of  the  mistress  of  the  house  contend  for 
influence;  or  in  the  trim  walks  of  the  Prado,  and 
among  the  loungers  of  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  where  the 
fashion  of  the  court  is  jostled  by  the  humors  of  the 
people ; or  in  the  Lavapies  and  the  Maravillas,  where 
the  lowest  classes,  with  their  picturesque  dresses  and 
unchanging  manners,  reign  supreme  and  unquestioned. 
But,  under  all  circumstances  and  in  all  situations,  Bamon 
de  la  Cruz,  in  this  class  of  his  dramas,  is  attractive  and 
amusing ; and,  though  there  is  seldom  any  thought  of 
dramatic  skill  in  his  combinations,  and  often  no  attempt 
at  a catastrophe,  — though  his  style  is  any  thing  but 
correct,  and  he  is  wholly  careless  of  finish  in  his  versifi- 
cation, — yet  his  farces  so  abound  in  wit  and  faithful  de- 
lineations of  character,  they  are  so  true  to  the  manners 
they  intend  to  represent,  and  so  entirely  national  in 
their  tone,  that  they  seem  expressly  made  for  a pleasant 
and  appropriate  accompaniment  to  the  longer  dramas 
of  Lope  and  Calderon,  in  whose  popular  spirit  they  are 
most  successfully  written.*® 


Teatrode  Don  Ramon  de  la  Cruz. 
In  the  Preface,  he  replies  to  Signo- 
relli, who,  in  the  seventh  chapter  of 
the  ninth  book  of  his  “ Storia  dei  Tea- 
tri,”  makes  a rude  attack  upon  him, 
chiefly  for  sundry  translations,  which 
La  Cruz  does  not  seem  to  have  print- 
ed. The  “ Coleccion  de  Sainetes  tanto 
impresos  como  ineditos  de  Don  Ramon 
de  la  Cruz,  con  un  Discurso  Preliminar 
de  Don  Agustin  Duran,”  etc.,  was 
printed  at  Madrid  in  1843,  2 tom. 
8vo.  A notice  of  the  life  of  the  au- 


thor is  in  Baena,  Hijos,  etc.,  Tom. 
IV.,  p.  280. 

At  about  the  same  time  that  Ramon 
de  la  Cruz  was  amusing  the  society  of 
Madrid  with  his  popular  dramas  and 
farces,  Juan  Ignacio  Gonzalez  del 
Castillo  was  equally  successful  in  the 
same  way  at  Cadiz.  He  was,  how- 
ever, little  known  beyond  the  limits 
of  Andalusia  till  1845,  when  Don 
Adolfo  de  Castro  published,  in  his 
native  city,  a collection  of  his  “ Say- 
netes,”  filling  two  volumes,  12mo.  In 


Chap.  VI.]  CONTESTS  FOR  THE  THEATRE.  329 

Meanwhile  the  press  was  not  so  inactive  as  it  had 
been.  Sedano  published  his  “Jael,”  taken  from  the 
story  in  the  book  of  Judges ; Lassala  his  “ Iphige- 
nia  ” ; Trigueros  his  “ Tradesmen  of  Madrid  ” ; and  Cor- 
tes his  “ Atahualpa  ” ; the  last  two  having  been  written, 
and  successful,  at  the  same  festivities  of  1784  for  which 
Melendez  composed  his  “Marriage  of  Camacho,”  and 
failed.  Cienfuegos,  too,  a poet  of  more  original  power 
than  either  of  them,  wrote  his  “ Pitaco,”  which  opened 
for  him  the  doors  of  the  Spanish  Academy ; his  “ Ido- 
meneo,”  from  which,  in  imitation  of  Alfieri,  he  excluded 
the  passion  of  love ; and  his  “ Countess  of  Castile,”  and 
his  “ Zoraida,”  taken  from  the  old  traditions  of  his  coun- 
try’s wars  and  feuds ; each  giving  proof  of  talent,  but 
of  talent  rather  lyric  than  dramatic,  and  each  showing 
too  anxious  an  adherence  to  Greek  models,  which  were 
particularly  unsuitable  for  the  Zoraida,  whose  scene  is 
laid  in  the  gardens  of  the  Alhambra.^^  But  all  of 
them  — so  far  at  least  as  the  public  stage  is  concern- 
ed— have  been  long  since  forgotten. 

On  the  other  hand.  La  Huerta,  in  1785,  published 
fourteen  volumes  of  the  old  full-length  plays,  and  one 
volume  of  the  old  “ Entremeses” ; a work  intended  to 
vindicate  the  national  theatre  of  Spain  in  the  preceding 
century,  and  to  place  it  as  high  as  that  of  the  rest  of 
Europe,  or  higher.  But  he  was  ill  fitted  for  his  task. 
A selection,  designed  to  illustrate  the  great  masters  of 
the  Spanish  stage,  which,  to  say  nothing  of  other  mis- 
takes, wholly  omitted  Lope  de  Vega,  began  with  a 
capital  defect ; and  this  circumstance,  together  with  the 


the  variety  of  their  tone,  in  their  faith-  his,  and  somewhat  less  rich  and  ge- 
fiilness  to  the  national  manners,  and  in  nial. 

the  gayety  of  their  satire,  they  resem-  Obras  de  Cienfuegos,  Madrid, 

hie  those  of  La  Cruz ; but  they  are  1798,  2 toni.  12mo ; — the  only  edi- 
a little  more  carefully  finished  than  tion  published  by  himself. 

42  BB* 


VOL.  III. 


330 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


arrogant  tone  of  the  editor  in  his  Prefaces,  and  the  con- 
tradiction to  his  present  opinions  afforded  by  the  ex- 
ample of  his  own  “ Paquel,”  which  is  entirely  in  the 
French  manner,  and  to  his  translations  of  the  “Electra” 
of  Sophocles  and  the  “Zaire”  of  Voltaire,  which  were 
obviously  made  to  defend  the  French  school,  prevented 
his  “ Teatro  Hespanol  ” from  producing  the  effect  that 
might  otherwise  have  followed  its  not  ill-timed  appear- 
ance. Still  it  was  a work  of  consequence,  and  was 
afterwards  acknowledged  to  be  such  by  the  public.^® 
The  discussions  it  provoked  were  of  more  direct  im- 
portance, and  tended  to  infuse  new  life  into  the  the- 
atre itself  Such  discussions  had  been  begun  immedi- 
ately after  the  publication  of  the  first  tragedy  by  Mon- 
tiano,  in  1750,  — a date  which  may  be  regarded  as  the 
dividing  point  in  the  history  of  the  Spanish  stage  dur- 
ing the  eighteenth  century,  — and  they  were  now  re- 
sumed with  great  activity,  partly  in  consequence  of  the 
increasing  interest  in  the  national  drama  generally,  and 
partly  in  consequence  of  the  personal  temper  of  La 
Huerta  himself  One  immediate  result  of  this  state  of 
things  was  a great  increase  in  the  number  of  plays,  of 
which  at  least  ten  times  more  were  written  in  the  last 
half  of  the  century  than  in  the  first ; and  if  there  were 
less  improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  theatre  than 


1®  Vicente  Garcia  de  la  Huerta  was 
born  in  1734,  and  died  in  1787.  A 
notice  of  his  life,  which  was  not  with- 
out literary  and  social  success,  — 
though  much  disturbed  by  a period  of 
exile  and  disgrace,  — is  to  be  found 
in  the  Semanario  Pintoresco,  (1842, 
p.  305,)  and  some  intimation  of  the 
various  literary  quarrels  in  which  he 
was  engaged  with  his  contemporaries 
may  be  seen  in  the  next  note.  His 
general  character  is  not  ill  summed 
up  in  the  following  epitaph  on  him. 


said  to  have  been  written  by  Yriarte, 
one  of  his  opponents,  which  should  be 
read,  recollecting  that  Saragossa  was 
famous  for  a hospital  for  the  insane,  — 
the  mad-house  that  figures  so  largely 
in  Avellaneda’s  “Don  Quixote.” 

De  juicio  si ; mas  no  de  in^cenio  escaso, 

Aqui  Huerta  el  audaz  descanso  goza ; 

Deja  un  puesio  vacante  en  el  Parnaso, 

Y una  jaula  vacia  en  Zaragoza. 

In  judgment,  — yes,  — but  not  in  genius  weak, 
Here  fierce  Huerta  tranquil  sleeps  and  well ; 

A vacant  post  upon  Parnassus  leaves, 

In  Saragossa,  too,  an  empty  cell. 


Chap.  VI.] 


VALLADARES.  — ZAVALA. 


331 


might  have  been  anticipated  from  such  competition, 
still,  as  we  have  seen,  poets  and  men  of  genius,  like 
Ramon  de  la  Cruz,  were  stirred  by  the  movement,  and 
far-sighted  spirits,  like  Jovellanos,  augured  well  for 
the  future. 

The  great  obstacle  to  the  success  of  better  dramas  lay 
in  a number  of  writers,  who  pandered  to  the  bad  taste 
of  the  low  and  vulgar  audiences  of  their  time.  Among 
the  more  prominent  and  successful  of  these  were  Valla- 
dares  and  Zavala.  The  first  wrote  above  a hundred 
dramas  on  all  kinds  of  subjects,  tragic  and  comic,  pre- 
fixing to  his  “ Emperor  Albert  ” a discourse  in  the  spirit 
of  Huerta,  to  defend  the  Spanish  drama  from  the  attacks 
of  its  French  neighbours.  The  other,  Zavala,  Avrote 
about  half  as  many,  some  of  which,  like  his  “ Victims 
of  Love,”  are  in  the  sentimental  style,  while  others,  like 
three  on  the  history  of  Charles  the  Twelfth  of  Sweden, 
are  as  extravagant  as  any  thing  in  the  worst  of  the 
dramatists  he  sought  to  imitate.  Both  used  the  old  ver- 
sification, and  intended  to  humor  the  public  taste  in  its 
demands  for  a vulgar  and  extravagant  drama;  though 
occasionally,  as  in  “ The  Triumphs  of  Love  and  Friend- 
ship,” by  Zavala,  they  wrote  in  prose ; and  occasionally, 
as  in  “ The  Defence  of  Virtue,”  they  showed  themselves 


19  Don  Jaime  Dorns  attacked  Monti- 
ano  in  a Letter,  without  date  or  name 
of  place  or  printer,  and  was  answered 
by  Domingo  Luis  de  Guevara  in  three 
Letters,  (Madrid,  1753, 18mo,)  to  which 
a rejoinder  by  Faustino  de  Quevedo 
appeared  at  Salamanca  in  1754,  18mo  ; 
— all  the  names  being  pseudonymes, 
and  all  the  discussions  more  angry 
than  wise.  The  publication  of  the 
“ Teatro  ” of  La  Huerta  excited  still 
more  discussion.  He  himself  speaks 
(Escena  Hespanola  Defendida,  Ma- 
drid, 1786,  12mo,  p.  cliii.)  of  the 
“ enorme  niimero  de  folletos  ” that 


appeared  in  reply  to  his  “ Prdlogo,” 
many  of  which  were  probably  only 
circulated  in  manuscript,  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  while  others, 
like  those  of  Cosme  Damian,  Tome 
Cecial  (i.  e.  J.  P.  Forner),  etc.,  were 
printed  in  1786,  and  La  Huerta  re- 
plied to  them  in  his  angry  “ Leccion 
Critica’  ’ of  the  same  year.  ( Sempere, 
Bib.,  Tom.  HI.  p.  88.)  The  whole 
of  this  period  of  Spanish  literature  is 
filled  with  the  quarrels  of  Sedano, 
Forner,  Huerta,  Yriarte,  and  their 
friends  and  rivals. 


332  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

willing  to  submit  to  the  rules  of  the  French  stage.  In 
fact,  they  had  neither  poetical  principles  nor  poetical 
talent,  and  wrote  only  to  amuse  a populace  more  igno- 
rant and  rude  than  themselves. 

SomeAvhat  better  than  either  of  these  last,  and  certain- 
ly more  successful  than  either  with  the  better  classes  of 
his  contemporaries,  was  Cornelia.  Like  Valladares,  his 
fertility  was  great ; and  the  ease  with  which  he  wrote, 
and  the  ingenuity  with  which  he  invented  new  and 
striking  situations,  seemed  to  have  the  same  charm  for 
his  audiences  which  they  had  had  for  the  audiences  of 
Lope  and  Calderon.  But,  unhappily,  Cornelia  had  not 
the  genius  of  the  old  masters.  His  plots  are  as  involved, 
and  sometimes  as  interesting,  as  theirs ; but,  generally, 
they  are,  to  a most  extravagant  degree,  wild  and  absurd. 
Even  when  he  deals  with  subjects  as  well  known  as 
Christina  of  Sweden,  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and  Fred- 
eric the  Great,  he  seems  to  have  no  regard  for  truth, 
probability,  or  consistency.  His  versification,  too,  is 
unfortunate.  In  form  it  is,  indeed,  such  as  had  always 
been  insisted  on  where  the  popular  voice  of  Castile  has 
borne  sway;  but  it  lacks  variety,  as  well  as  richness  and 
strength.  Still,  his  romances  in  dialogue  were  found  so 
interesting,  and  there  was  so  much  of  tender  and  honor- 
able feeling  in  the  tone  of  his  sentiments  and  the  inci- 
dents of  his  plots,  that  above  a hundred  of  his  wild 
dramas — some  of  them  in  prose,  but  more  in  verse,  some 
on  historical  subjects,  but  many  made  out  of  love-stories 
of  his  own  invention — were  received  with  applause,  and 
proved  more  profitable  to  the  theatres  of  Madrid  than 
any  thing  else  they  could  offer  to  the  multitude  on 
whom  they  depended  for  their  existence.^ 

20  The  popularity  of  Antonio  Valla-  y Zamora,  and  of  Luciano  Francisco 
dares  de  Sotomayor,  of  Caspar  Zavala  Cornelia,  did  not  last  long  enough  to 


Chap.  VI.] 


MORATIN  THE  YOUNGER. 


333 


But  while  Cornelia  was  at  the  height  of  his  reputa- 
tion, a formidable  antagonist,  both  to  himself  and  to 
the  whole  class  of  writers  he  represented,  appeared  in 
the  person  of  Moratin  the  younger,  son  of  that  poet 
who  first  produced  on  the  Spanish  stage  an  original 
drama  written  according  to  the  French  doctrines.  He 
was  born  m 1760.  To  insure  for  the  child  a sub- 
sistence he  had  with  ditficulty  earned  for  himself,  his 
father  placed  him  as  an  apprentice  to  a jeweller,  at 
whose  trade  the  young  man  continued  to  work  till  he 
was  twenty-three  years  old,  — the  latter  part  of  the 
time  in  order  to  support  his  mother,  who  had  been  left 
a widow. 

But  his  natural  disposition  for  poetry  was  too  strong 
to  be  controlled  by  the  hard  circumstances  of  his  situ- 
ation. When  seven  years  old  he  had  written  verses, 
and  at  eighteen  he  obtained  the  second  prize  offered 
by  the  Royal  Spanish  Academy  for  a poem  to  com- 
memorate the  taking  of  Granada,  — a circumstance 
which  astonished  nobody  more  than  it  did  his  own 
family,  for  he  had  written  it  secretly,  and  presented  it 
under  a feigned  name.  Another  success  of  the  same 
sort,  two  years  later,  attracted  more  attention  to  the 
poor  young  jeweller;  and  at  last,  in  1787,  by  the  kind 
intervention  of  Jovellanos,  he  was  made  secretary  to  the 
Spanish  embassy  at  Paris,  and  accompanied  the  ambas- 
sador, Count  Cabarrus,  to  that  capital.  There  he  re- 
mained two  years,  and,  during  that  time,  became  ac- 
quainted with  Goldoni,  and  entered  into  relations  with 
other  men  of  letters,  that  determined  the  direction  of  his 
life  and  the  character  of  his  drama. 

cause  their  works  to  be  collected,  no,  Jose  Concha,  etc.  Of  Cornelia 
But  I have  many  separate  plays  of  alone  I have  thirty,  and  I am  ashamed 
each  of  them,  and  of  other  forgotten  to  say  how  many  of  them  I have  read 
authors  of  this  period,  such  as  Luis  for  the  pleasure  their  mere  stories 
Moncin,  Vicente  Rodriguez  de  Arella-  gave  me. 


334  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 

On  his  return  to  Madrid,  he  obtained  the  patronage 
of  Don  Manuel  Godoy,  afterwards  the  all-powerful 
Prince  of  the  Peace ; and  from  this  moment  his  fortune 
seemed  certain.  He  was  sent,  at  the  public  charge,  to 
study  the  theatres  of  Germany  and  England,  as  well  as 
those  of  Italy  and  France ; he  had  pensions  and  places 
given  him  at  home;  and,  while  an  honorable  occupa- 
tion in  the  department  of  Foreign  Affairs,  which  await- 
ed his  return,  insured  him  a distinguished  position  in 
society,  he  had  still  leisure  left  for  that  cultivation  of 
letters  which  he  prized  above  all  his  prosperity  and 
all  his  official  honors. 

This  happy  state  of  things  continued  till  the  French 
invasion  of  1808.  His  public  relations  then  became  a 
misfortune.  The  flood  of  events  swept  him  from  his 
place,  as  it  did  his  patron;  and,  without  becoming  in 
any  degree  false  to  the  interests  of  his  country,  he  was 
so  far  implicated  in  those  of  the  new  government,  that, 
when  Ferdinand  the  Seventh  was  restored  to  the  throne, 
Moratin  was  treated  for  a time  with  great  rigor.  But 
this,  too,  passed  away,  and  he  was  again  protected  and 
favored.  Still  he  suffered.  His  friends  were  in  exile, 
and  he  felt  solitary  without  them.  He  went  back  to 
France,  and,  though  once  aftei’Avards  he  returned  with 
a fond  longing  to  the  land  of  his  birth,  he  found  every 
thing  so  changed  by  the  triumphant  despotism,  that  it 
was  no  longer  Spain  to  him,  and  he  established  himself 
finally  at  Paris,  where  he  died  in  1828.  He  was  buried 
near  Moliere,  whom  in  life  he  had  honored  and  imi- 
tated. 

When  Moratin  began  his  career  as  a dramatic  poet, 
he  found  obstacles  to  his  success  on  every  side.  His 
father’s  tragedy  of  “ Hormesinda  ” had  been  produced 
on  the  stage  only  in  consequence  of  the  ministerial  pro- 


Chap.  VI.] 


MORATIN  THE  YOUNGER. 


335 


tection  of  the  Count  of  Aranda,  and  in  opposition  to 
the  judgment  and  fears  of  the  actors.^^  Cienfuegos, 
who  had  followed  his  example,  was  able  with  difficulty 
to  obtain  a hearing  for  two  out  of  his  five  dramas ; — 
one  of  them  being  listened  to  with  partial  favor  be- 
cause it  was  on  a subject  familiar  to  all  Spaniards  from 
the  days  of  the  old  ballads,  and  always  welcome  to  their 
hearts.  Quintana,  whose  name  was  early  respected  and 
his  influence  uniformly  great,  had  failed  with  “ The 
Duke  of  Viseo.”  Others  were  discouraged  by  such 
examples,  and  made  no  effort  to  obtain  the  public  no- 
tice where  there  was  so  little  prospect  of  success. 

This  was  the  condition  of  the  stage,  when  the  young- 
er Moratin  appeared  as  a candidate  before  the  audi- 
ences of  Madrid.  The  new  school  had  gained  some 
ground,  and  the  living  representatives  of  the  old  one 
were  none  of  them  more  distinguished  than  Cornelia; 
but  the  taste  of  the  public  was  not  changed,  and  the 
managers  of  the  theatre  were  obliged,  as  well  as  in- 
clined, to  yield  to  its  authority  and  humor  its  fancies. 

Moratin  determined,  however,  to  tread  in  the  foot- 
steps of  his  father,  for  whose  example  and  memory 
he  always  felt  the  sincerest  reverence.  He  therefore 
wrote  his  first  comedy,  “ The  Old  Husband  and  the 
Young  Wife,”  quite  within  the  rules,  finishing  every 
part  of  it  with  the  greatest  exactness,  but  dividing  it,  as 
the  old  Spanish  plays  were  divided,  into  three  acts,  and 
using  throughout  the  old  short  verse  which  was  always 
popular.  But  when,  in  1786,  he  offered  his  comedy  for 
representation,  the  simplicity  of  the  action,  so  unlike 
the  involved  plots  on  which  the  common  people  still 
loved  to  exercise  their  extraordinary  ingenuity,  and  the 


21  Obras  Pdstumas  de  N.  F.  Moratin,  1825,  p.  xvi. 


336  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 

very  quietness  and  decorum  that  reigned  throughout 
it,  made  the  actors  alarmed  for  its  success.  Objec- 
tions were  made,  and  these,  with  other  untoward  cir- 
cumstances, prevented  it  from  being  brought  out  for  four 
years.  When  it  finally  appeared,  it  was  received  with 
a moderate  applause,  which  satisfied  neither  of  the  ex- 
treme parties  into  which  the  audiences  at  Madrid  were 
then  divided,  and  yet  was  not  perhaps  unjust  to  the 
comedy,  whose  action  is  somewhat  cold  and  languid, 
though  its  poetical  merits,  in  other  respects,  are  far  from 
being  inconsiderable. 

But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  effect  on  the  public, 
the  effect  on  its  author  was  decisive.  He  had  been 
heard.  His  merit  had  been,  in  part  at  least,  acknowl- 
edged ; and  he  now  determined  to  bring  the  pretensions 
of  the  popular  dramatists,  who  were  disgracing  the  stage, 
to  the  test  of  a public  trial  on  the  stage  itself.  For  this 
purpose,  he  wrote  his  “ New  Play,”  as  he  called  it,  which 
is  an  exposition  of  the  motives  of  a penniless  author 
for  composing  one  of  the  noisy,  extravagant  dramas 
then  constantly  acted  with  applause,  and  an  account 
of  its  first  representation ; — the  whole  related  by  the 
author  himself  and  his  friends,  in  a coffee-house  con- 
tiguous to  the  theatre,  at  the  very  moment  the  fatal  rep- 
resentation is  supposed  to  be  going  on. 

It  is  in  two  acts ; and  the  catastrophe  — which  con- 
sists of  the  confusion  of  the  author  and  his  family  at  the 
failure  of  his  performance  — is  brought  on  with  skill, 
and  with  an  effect  much  greater  than  the  simplicity  of 
the  action  had  promised.  The  piece,  therefore,  was 
received  with  a favor  which  even  Moratin  and  his 
friends  had  not  anticipated.  The  poet,  who  is  its  vic- 
tim, was  recognized  at  once  to  be  Cornelia.  Some  of 
the  inferior  characters,  whether  justly  or  not,  were  ap- 


Chap.  VI.] 


MORATIN  THE  YOUNGER. 


337 


propriated  to  other  persons  who  figured  at  the  time,  and 
the  “ New  Play  ” was  acknowledged  to  be  a brilliant 
satire ; — severe  indeed,  but  well  merited  and  happily 
applied.  From  this  time,  therefore,  which  was  1792, 
Moratin,  notwithstanding  the  exasperated  opposition  of 
the  adherents  of  the  old  school,  had  secured  for  him- 
self a permanent  place  on  the  national  stage,  and,  what 
is  more  remarkable,  this  little  drama,  almost  without  a 
regular  action  and  founded  on  interests  purely  local, 
was,  for  the  sake  of  its  wit  and  originality,  translated 
and  successfully  represented  both  in  France  and  Italy. 

“ The  Baron,”  which  is  in  two  acts  and  in  verse,  was 
at  first  prepared  to  be  sung;  and,  without  the  per- 
mission of  the  author,  was  altered  to  an  acting  drama 
and  performed  in  public  during  his  absence  from  Spain. 
On  his  return,  he  improved  it  by  material  additions,  and 
produced  it  again  in  1803.  It  is  the  least  effective  of 
his  theatrical  performances;  but  it  triumphed  over  a 
cabal,  which  supported  a drama  written  on  the  same 
subject  and  represented  at  the  same  time,  in  order  to 
interfere  with  its  success. 

At  the  moment  Moratin  was  making  arrangements  for 
bringing  out  “ The  Baron,”  he  was  occupied  with  the 
careful  preparation  of  another  comedy  in  verse,  that  was 
destined  still  further  to  increase  his  reputation.  This 
was  “ The  Female  Hypocrite,”  which  was  written  as 
early  as  1791,  and  was  soon  afterwards  represented  in 
private,  but  which  was  not  finished  and  acted  publicly 
till  1804.  It  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  character- 


22  From  a letter  of  Moratin,  pub- 
lished in  the  Semanario  Pintoresco, 
(1844,  p.  43,)  it  seems  that  Cornelia 
and  his  friends  prevented  for  some 
time  the  representation  of  the  “ Come- 
dia Nueva,”  and  that  the  permission 
to  act  it  was  not  granted  till  it  had 

VOL.  III.  43 


undergone  five  different  examinations, 
and  not  till  the  very  day  for  which  it 
had  been  announced  was  come.  The 
applause  of  the  public,  however,  made 
amends  to  Moratin  for  the  trouble 
which  the  intrigues  of  his  rivals  and 
enemies  had  given  him. 


CC 


338 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III 


drawing;  the  two  principal  personages  being  a girl, 
made,  by  the  severity  of  her  family,  to  assume  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  very  religious,  while  her  cousin,  who 
is  well  contrasted  with  her,  is  rendered  frank  and  win- 
ning by  an  opposite  treatment.  The  very  subject,  how- 
ever, was  one  that  brought  Moratin  upon  dangerous 
ground,  and  his  play  was  forbidden  by  the  Inquisition. 
But  that  once  formidable  body  was  now  little  more  than 
an  engine  of  state ; so  that  the  authority  of  the  Prince 
of  the  Peace  was  not  only  sufficient  to  prevent  any  dis- 
agreeable consequences  to  Moratin  himself,  but  was  able 
soon  afterwards  to  indulge  the  public  in  a pleasure  for 
which  they  were  only  the  more  eager,  because  it  had 
for  a time  been  interdicted. 

Moratin’s  last  original  effort  on  the  stage  was  a full- 
length  prose  comedy  in  three  acts,  which  he  called  the 
“Little  Girl’s  Consent,”  and  which  was  acted  in  1806. 
Its  general  movement  is  extremely  natural,  and  yet  it  is 
enlivened  with  a little  of  the  intrigue  and  bustle  that 
were  always  so  much  liked  on  the  Spanish  theatre.  A 
young  girl,  while  in  the  course  of  her  education  at  a 
convent,  becomes  attached  to  a handsome  officer  of  dra- 
goons. Her  mother,  ignorant  of  this,  undertakes  to 
bring  her  home  and  marry  her  to  an  excellent,  benevo- 
lent old  gentleman,  whom  the  daughter  has  never  seen, 
but  whom,  out  of  mere  weakness,  she  has  been  unable  to 
refuse.  At  an  inn  on  the  road,  where  the  younger  lover 
falls  in  with  them  on  purpose  to  break  up  this  match, 
they  all  meet ; and  he  discovers,  to  his  dismay,  that  his 
rival  is  an  uncle  to  whom  he  is  sincerely  attached,  and 
to  whom  he  owes  many  obligations.  The  mistakes  and 
intrigues  of  the  night  they  pass  together  at  this  inn 
give  great  life  to  the  action,  and  are  full  of  humor; 
while  the  disinterested  attachment  of  the  young  lovers 


Chap.  VI.] 


MORATIN  THE  YOUNGER. 


339 


to  each  other,  and  the  benevolence  of  the  uncle,  add  to 
the  conflicting  claims  and  relations  of  the  different  par- 
ties a charm  quite  original  in  itself,  and  very  effective  in 
its  exhibition.  The  play  ends  by  the  discovery  of  the 
real  state  of  the  daughter’s  heart,  and  the  renunciation 
of  all  the  pretensions  of  the  uncle,  who  makes  his 
nephew  his  heir. 

Nothing  on  the  Spanish  stage  had  been  so  well  re- 
ceived for  a long  period.  It  was  acted  twenty-six  nights 
successively  to  audiences  who  were  in  the  habit  of  de- 
manding novelties  constantly ; and  then  it  was  stopped 
only  because  Lent  came  to  shut  up  the  theatres.  No 
criticism  appeared  except  to  praise  it.  The  triumph  of 
Moratin  was  complete. 

But  he  was  not  destmed  long  to  enjoy  it.  The 
troubles  of  his  counLy  were  already  begun,  and  in 
three  years  the  French  were  its  temporary  masters. 
He  prepared,  indeed,  afterwards  two  spirited  translations 
from  Moliere,  with  alterations  that  made  them  more 
attractive  to  his  countrymen ; one  from  the  “ Ecole  des 
Maris,”  which  was  acted  m 1812,  and  the  other  from 
the  “Medecin  Malgre  Lui,”  which  was  acted  in  1814; 
but,  except  these  and  an  unfortunate  prose  version  of 
Shakspeare’s  “Hamlet,”  which  was  printed  in  1798, 
but  never  performed,  he  wrote  nothing  for  the  theatre 
except  the  five  comedies  already  noticed.  These,  if 
they  form_  no  very  broad  foundation  for  his  fame,  seem 
yet  to  constitute  one  on  which  it  may  rest  safely ; and, 
if  they  have  failed  to  educate  a school  strong  enough 
to  drive  out  the  bad  imitations  of  the  old  masters  that 
have  constantly  pressed  upon  them,  have  yet  been  able 
to  keep  their  own  place,  little  disturbed  by  the  changes 
of  the  times.^^ 


23  Every  thing  relating  to  Moratin  the  younger  is  to  be  found  in  the  ex- 


840 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


That  the  Spanish  drama,  during  the  century  which 
elapsed  between  the  establishment  of  the  House  of 
Bourbon  on  the  throne  and  the  temporary  expulsion 
of  that  house  from  Spain  by  the  arms  of  Bonaparte, 
had,  in  some  respects,  made  progress,  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed. More  convenient  and  suitable  structures  for  its 
exhibitions  had  been  erected,  not  only  in  the  capital, 
but  in  all  the  principal  cities  of  the  kingdom.  New 
and  various  forms  of  dramatic  composition  had  been 
introduced,  which,  if  not  always  consistent  with  the  de- 
mands of  the  national  genius,  nor  often  encouraged  by 
the  general  favor,  had  still  been  welcome  to  the  greater 
part  of  the  more  cultivated  classes,  and  served  both  to 
excite  attention  to  the  fallen  state  of  the  theatre  gener- 
ally, and  to  stir  the  thoughts  of  men  for  its  restoration. 
Actors,  too,  of  extraordinary  merit  had  from  time  to 
time  appeared,  like  Damian  de  Castro,  for  whom  Za- 
mora and  Canizares  wrote  parts ; Maria  L’  Advenant, 
who  delighted  Signorelli  in  the  higher  characters  of 
Calderon  and  Moreto ; the  Tirana,  whose  tragic  powers 
astonished  the  practised  taste  of  Cumberland,  the  Eng- 
lish dramatist;  and  Maiquez,  who  enjoyed  the  friend- 
ship and  admiration  of  nearly  all  the  Spanish  men  of 
letters  in  his  time.^^ 

But  still  the  old  spirit  and  life  of  the  drama  of  the 


cellent  edition  of  his  Works,  pub- 
lished by  the  Academy  of  History. 
Larra  (Obras,  Madrid,  1843,  12mo, 
Tom.  II.  pp.  183-187)  intimates  that 
the  “ Mogigata”  had  been  proscribed 
anew,  and  that  the  “ Si  de  las  Ninas  ” 
had  been  mutilated,  but  that  both  were 
brought  out  again,  in  their  original 
form,  about  1838. 

C.  Pellicer,  Origen,  Tom.  II.  p. 
41.  Signorelli,  Storia,  Lib.  IX.  cap. 
8.  R.  Cumberland  (Memoirs  of  Him- 
self, London,  1807,  8vo,  Tom.  11.  p. 
107)  speaks  of  the  Tirana  as  “ at  the 


very  summit  of  her  art,”  and  adds  that 
on  one  occasion,  when  hf  Was  present, 
her  tragic  powers  proved  too  much  for 
the  audience,  at  whose  cries  the  cur- 
tain was  lowered  before  the  piece  was 
ended.  Maiquez  was  the  friend  of 
Blanco  White,  of  Moratin  the  younger, 
etc.  (New  Monthly  Mag.,  Tom.  XL  p. 
187,  and  L.  F.  Moratin,  Obras,  Tom. 
IV.  p.  345).  His  best  character  was 
that  of  Garcia  de  Castaiiar,  in  Roxas, 
which  I have  seen  him  play  with  ad- 
mirable power  and  effect. 


Chap.  VI.]  DRAMA  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.  341 

seventeenth  century  were  not  there.  The  audiences, 
who  were  as  unlike  those  of  the  cavalier  times  of  Philip 
the  Fourth  as  were  the  rude  exhibitions  they  preferred 
to  witness,  did  as  much  to  degrade  the  theatre  as  was 
done  by  the  poets  they  patronized  and  the  actors  they 
applauded.  The  two  schools  were  in  presence  of  each 
other  continually  struggling  for  the  victory,  and  the 
multitude  seemed  rather  to  rejoice  in  the  uproar,  than 
desire  so  to  use  it  as  to  promote  changes  beneficial  to 
the  theatre.  On  the  one  side,  extravagant  and  absurd 
dramas  in  great  numbers,  full  of  noise,  show,  and  low 
bufibonery,  were  offered  with  success.  On  the  other, 
meagre  sentimental  comedies,  and  stiff,  cold  translations 
from  the  French,  were  forced,  in  almost  equal  numbers, 
upon  the  actors  by  the  voices  of  those  from  whose  au- 
thority or  support  they  could  not  entirely  emancipate 
themselves.  And  between  the  two,  and  with  the  con- 
sent of  all,  the  Inquisition  and  the  censors  forbade  the 
representation  of  hundreds  of  the  dramas  of  the  old  mas- 
ters, and  among  them  not  a few  which  still  give  repu- 
tation to  Calderon  and  Lope.  The  eighteenth  century, 
therefore,  so  far  as  the  Spanish  theatre  is  concerned, 
is  entirely  a period  of  revolution  and  change;  and 
while,  at  its  conclusion,  we  perceive  that  the  old  na- 
tional drama  can  hardly  hope  to  be  restoi’ed  to  its 
ancient  rights,  it  is  equally  plain  that  a drama  founded 
on  the  doctrines  taught  by  Luzan,  and  practised  by  the 
Moratins,  is  not  destined  to  take  its  place.^ 


25  The  war  between  the  Church  and 
the  theatre  was  kept  up  during  the 
whole  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
till  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Ferdinand 
VII.,  in  the  nineteenth.  Not  that 
plays  were  at  any  time  forbidden  ef- 
fectually throughout  the  kingdom,  or 
silenced  in  the  capital,  except  during 
some  short  period  of  national  anxiety 


or  mourning ; but  that,  at  different 
intervals,  — and  especially  about  the 
year  1748,  when,  in  consequence  of 
earthquakes  at  Valencia,  and  under 
the  influence  of  the  Archbishop  of  that 
city,  its  theatre  was  closed,  and  re- 
mained so  for  twelve  years,  (Luis  La- 
marca,  Teatro  de  Valencia,  Valencia, 
1840,  12rao,  pp.  32  - 36,)  and  about 

CC*' 


342 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI 


the  year  1754,  when  Father  Calatayud 
preached  as  a missionary  and  published 
a book  against  plays,  — there  was  great 
excitement  on  the  subject  in  the  prov- 
inces. Ferdinand  VI.  issued  severe 
decrees  for  their  regulation,which  were 
little  respected,  and  in  different  cities 
and  dioceses,  like  Lerida,  Palencia,  Ca- 
lahorra,  Saragossa,  Alicant,  Cordova, 
etc.,  they  were  from  time  to  time,  and 
as  late  as  1807,  under  ecclesiastical  in- 
fluence, and,  with  the  assent  of  the  peo- 
ple, suppressed,  and  the  theatres  shut 
up.  In  Murcia,  where  they  seem  to 
have  been  prohibited  from  1734  to 
1789,  and  then  permitted  again,  the 
religious  authorities  openly  resisted 
their  restoration,  and  not  only  denied  the 
sacraments  to  actors,  but  endeavoured 
to  deprive  them  of  the  enjoyment  of 
some  of  the  common  rights  of  subjects, 
such  as  that  of  receiving  testamentary 
legacies.  This,  however,  was  an 
anomalous  and  absurd  state  of  things, 
making  what  was  tolerated  as  harm- 
less in  the  capital  of  the  kingdom  a 
sin  or  a crime  in  the  provinces.  It 
was  a sort  of  war  of  the  outposts, 
carried  on  after  the  citadel  had  been 
surrendered.  Still  it  had  its  effect, 
and  its  influence  continued  to  be  felt 
till  a new  order  of  things  was  intro- 
duced into  the  state  generally.  Many 
singular  facts  in  relation  to  it  may  be 
found  scattered  through  a very  ill-ar- 
ranged book,  written  apparently  by  an 
ecclesiastic  of  Murcia,  in  two  volumes 


quarto,  at  different  times  between 
1789  and  1814,  in  which  last  year  it 
was  published  there,  with  the  title  of 
“ Pantoja,  6 Resolucion  Hist  rica, 
Teologica  de  un  Caso  Pratico  de 
Moral  sobre  Corned  ias  ” ; — Pantoja 
being  the  name  of  a lady,  real  or  pre- 
tended, who  had  asked  questions  of 
conscience  concerning  the  lawfulness 
of  plays,  and  who  received  her  an- 
swers in  this  clumsy  way. 

The  state  of  the  theatre,  at  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  can  be  well  seen  in 
the  “Teatro  Nuevo  Espafiol,”  (Ma- 
drid, 1800-  1,  5 tom.  12mo,)  filled 
with  the  plays,  original  and  translat- 
ed, that  were  then  in  fashion.  It  con- 
tains a list  of  such  as  were  forbidden  ; 
imperfect,  but  still  embracing  between 
five  and  six  hundred,  among  which 
are  Calderon’s  “ Life  is  a Dream,” 
Alarcon’s  “ Weaver  of  Segovia,”  and 
many  more  of  the  best  dramas  of  the 
old  school.  Duran,  in  a note  to  his 
Preface  to  Ramon  de  la  Cruz,  (Tom. 
I.  p.  V.,)  intimates  that  this  ostracism 
was  in  some  degree  the  result  of  the 
influence  of  those  who  sustained  the 
French  doctrines. 

The  number  of  plays  acted  or  pub- 
lished between  1700  and  1825,  if  not 
to  be  compared  with  that  of  the  corre- 
sponding period  preceding  1700,  is 
still  large.  I think  that,  in  the  list 
given  by  Moratin,  there  are  about  four- 
teen hundred  ; nearly  all  after  1750. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Reign  of  Charles  the  Fourth. — French  Revolution. — Inquisition. 

— Plot  of  the  Escurial.  — Ferdinand  the  Seventh.  — Bonaparte. 

— The  French  Invasion  and  Occupation  of  the  Country.  — Resto- 
ration OF  Ferdinand  the  Seventh.  — His  Despotism. — An  Inter- 
regnum in  Letters.  — Reaction.  — Conclusion, 


The  reign  of  Charles  the  Fourth  was  not  one  in 
which  a literary  contest  could  be  carried  on  with  the 
freedom  that  alone  can  render  such  contests  the  means 
of  intellectual  progress.  His  profligate  favorite,  the 
Prince  of  the  Peace,  during  a long  administration  of 
the  affairs  of  the  country,  overshadowed  every  thing 
with  an  influence  hardly  less  fatal  to  what  he  patron- 
ized than  to  what  he  oppressed.  The  revolution  in 
France,  first  resisted,  as  it  was  elsewhere,  and  then  cor- 
ruptly conciliated,  struck  the  same  terror  at  Madrid 
that  it  did  at  Rome  and  Naples ; and,  while  its  open 
defiance  of  every  thing  Christian  filled  the  hearts  of  a 
large  majority  of  the  Spanish  people  with  a horror  great- 
er than  it  inspired  even  in  Italy,  not  a few  were  led 
away  by  it  from  their  time-honored  feelings  of  religion 
and  loyalty,  and  prepared  for  changes  like  those  that 
were  already  overturning  the  thrones  of  half  Europe. 
Amidst  this  confusion,  and  taking  advantage  of  it,  the 
Inquisition,  grown  flexible  in  the  hands  of  the  govern- 
ment as  a political  machine,  but  still  renouncing  none 
of  its  religious  pretensions,  came  forth  with  its  last 
“ Index  Expurgatorius  ” to  meet  the  invasion  of  Erench 


344 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


philosophy  and  insubordination.*  Acting  under  express 
instructions  from  the  powers  of  the  state  it  received 
against  men  of  letters,  and  especially  those  connected 
with  the  universities,  an  immense  number  of  denun- 
ciations, which,  though  rarely  prosecuted  to  conviction 
and  punishment,  were  still  formidable  enough  to  pre- 
vent the  public  expression  of  opinions  on  any  subject 
that  could  endanger  the  social  condition  of  the  indi- 
vidual who  ventured  to  entertain  them.  In  all  its 
worst  forms,  therefore,  oppression,  civil,  political,  and 
religious,  appeared  to  be  settling  down  with  a new  and 
portentous  weight  on  the  whole  country.  All  men  felt 
it.  It  seemed  as  if  the  very  principle  of  life  in  the 
atmosphere  they  breathed  had  become  tainted  and  un- 
wholesome. But  they  felt,  too,  that  the  same  atmos- 
phere was  charged  with  the  spirit  of  a great  revolution ; 
and  the  boldest  walked  warily  and  were  hushed,  while 
they  waited  for  changes  the  shock  of  whose  fierce  ele- 
ments none  could  willingly  encounter. 

At  last  the  convulsion  came.  In  1807,  the  heir  ap- 
parent was  brought  into  direct  collision  with  the  Prince 
of  the  Peace,  and  took  measures  to  defend  his  personal 
rights.  The  affair  of  the  Escurial  followed;  darker 
than  the  dark  cells  in  which  it  was  conceived.  Ferdi- 
nand was  accused,  under  the  influence  of  the  favorite, 
Avith  a design  to  dethrone  and  murder  his  own  father 
and  mother ; and,  for  a moment,  Europe  seemed  threat- 

1 The  last  Index  Expurgatorius  shows  the  quarter  from  which  danger 
is  that  of  Madrid,  1790,  (4to,  pp.  was  chiefly  apprehended.  To  prevent 
305,)  to  which  should  be  added  a any  of  this  class  from  escaping,  it  is 
Supplement  of  55  pages,  dated  1805;  ordered  that  “all  papers,  tracts,  and 
both  very  meagre,  compared  with  the  books,  on  the  disturbances  in  France, 
vast  folios  of  the  two  preceding  centu-  which  can  inspire  a spirit  of  seduction, 
ries,  of  which  that  of  1667  fills,  with  shall  be  delivered  to  some  servant  of 
its  Supplement,  above  1200  pages,  the  Holy  Office.”  Supplement  of 
But  the  last  of  the  race  is  as  bitter  as  1805,  p.  3.  Burke’s  “ Reflections  ” 
its  predecessors,  and,  by  the  great  are  forbidden  in  the  same  Index, 
number  of  French  books  it  includes, 


Chap.  VII.]  FRENCH  INVASION.  345 

ened  with  a crime  which  even  the  unscrupulous  despo- 
tism of  Philip  the  Second  had  not  ventured  to  commit. 
This  was  prevented  by  the  manly  boldness  and  con- 
stancy of  Escoiquiz.  But  things  could  not  long  remain 
in  the  uneasy  and  treacherous  position  in  which  such  a 
rash  attempt  at  convulsion  had  left  them.  The  great 
revolution  broke  out  at  Aranjuez  in  March,  1808; 
Charles  the  Fourth  abdicated  in  shame  and  terror ; and 
Ferdinand  the  Seventh  ascended  the  tottering  throne 
of  his  ancestors  amidst  the  exultation  of  his  people. 
But  Napoleon,  then  at  the  summit  of  his  vast  power, 
interfered  in  the  troubles  he  had  not  been  unwilling  to 
foster.  Under  the  pretext,  that  such  fatal  differences 
as  had  arisen  between  the  father  and  son  would  disturb 
the  affairs  of  Europe,  he  drew  the  royal  family  of  Spain 
into  his  toils  at  Bayonne  ; and  there,  on  the  soil  of 
France,  the  crown  of  the  Bourbon  race  in  Spain  was 
ignominiously  surrendered  into  his  hands,  and  by  him 
placed  on  the  head  of  his  brother,  already  king  of 
Naples. 

It  was  all  the  work  of  a few  short  weeks ; and  the 
fate  of  Spain  seemed  to  be  sealed  with  a seal  that  no 
human  power  would  he  permitted  to  break.  But  the 
people  of  that  land  of  faith  and  chivalry  were  not  for- 
getful of  their  ancient  honor  in  this  the  day  of  their 
great  trial.  They  boldly  refused  to  ratify  the  treaty 
to  which  father  and  son  had  alike  put  their  dishonored 
names,  and  sprang  to  arms  to  prevent  its  provisions 
from  being  fulfilled  by  foreign  intervention.  It  was  a 
fierce  struggle.  For  nearly  six  years,  the  forces  of 
France  were  spread  over  the  country,  sometimes  seem- 
ing to  cover  the  whole  of  it,  and  sometimes  only  small 
portions,  but  seldom  exerting  any  real  control  beyond 
the  camps  they  occupied  and  the  cities  they  from  time 

44 


VOL.  III. 


346 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  HI. 


to  time  garrisoned.  At  last,  in  1813,  under  the  lead- 
ing of  England,  the  invaders  were  driven  through  the 
gorges  of  the  Pyrenees ; and,  as  a part  of  the  great 
European  retribution,  Ferdinand  the  Seventh  was  re- 
placed on  the  throne  he  had  so  weakly  abdicated. 

He  Avas  received  by  his  people  with  a loyalty  that 
seemed  to  belong  to  the  earliest  ages  of  the  monarchy. 
But  it  was  lost  on  him.  He  returned  untaught  by  the 
misfortunes  he  had  suffered,  and  unmoved  by  a fidelity 
Avhich  had  shoAved  itself  ready  to  sacrifice  a whole  gen- 
eration and  its  hopes  to  his  honor  and  rights.  As  far 
as  Avas  possible,  he  restored  all  the  forms  and  appliances 
of  the  old  despotism,  and  thrust  from  his  confidence 
the  A^ery  men  Avho  had  brought  him  home  on  their 
shields,  and  who  only  claimed  for  their  country  the  ex- 
ercise of  a salutary  freedom,  Avithout  Avhich  he  himself 
could  not  be  maintained  on  the  throne  where  their 
courage  and  constancy  had  seated  him.^  Even  the  In- 
quisition, which  it  had  been  one  of  the  most  popular 
acts  of  the  French  inA-aders  to  abolish,  and  one  of  the 
Avisest  acts  of  the  national  Cortes  to  declare  incompati- 
ble with  the  constitution  of  the  monarchy,  Avas  solemnly 
reinstated ; and  if,  during  a reign  protracted  through 
twenty  sad  and  troubled  years,  any  proper  freedom  Avas 
for  a moment  granted  to  thought,  to  speech,  or  to 
the  press,  it  was  only  in  consequence  of  changes  over 

- One  of  the  most  odious  of  the  the  martyrs.  In  1823,  Ferdinand  or- 
acts  that  marked  the  restoration  of  dered  the  simple  monument  of  the 
Ferdinand  A ll.  related  to  the  war  of  Cortes  to  be  destroyed,  and  replaced 
the  Comuncros,  nearly  three  centu-  the  old  inscription ! But,  since  that 
ries  before.  After  the  execution  of  time,  Martinez  de  la  Rosa  has  erected 
Juan  de  Padilla  and  the  exile  of  his  a nobler  monument  to  their  memory 
noble  wife,  in  1521,  their  house  W'as  in  his “ Viudade Padilla.”  SeeHenri 
razed  to  the  ground,  and  an  inscription  Ternaux,  Les  Comuneros,  Paris,  1834, 
reproachful  to  their  memory  placed  8vo,  p.  208;  an  interesting  work  and  a 
on  the  spot  where  it  had  stood.  This  work  of  authority,  relying,  in  part,  on 
the  Cortes  removed,  and  erected  in  its  unpublished  materials, 
stead  a simple  monument  in  honor  of 


Chap.  VII.]  INTERREGNUM  IN  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  347 

which  the  prince  had  no  control,  and  of  which  he  felt 
himself  to  be  rather  the  victim  than  the  author.^ 
Amidst  such  violence  and  confusion,  — when  men 
slept  in  armour,  as  they  had  during  the  Moorish  con- 
test, and  knew  not  whether  they  should  be  waked 
amidst  their  households  or  amidst  their  enemies,  — ele- 
gant letters,  of  course,  could  hardly  hope  to  find  shelter 
or  resting-place.  The  grave  political  questions,  that 
agitated  the  country  and  shook  the  foundations  of  so- 
ciety, were  precisely  those  in  which  it  might  be  foreseen, 
that  intellectual  men  would  take  the  deepest  interest 
and  expose  themselves  to  sufferings  and  ruin,  like  the 
less  favored  masses  around  them.  And  so,  in  fact,  it 
proved.  Nearly  every  poet  and  prose-writer,  known  as 
such  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Fourth, 
became  involved  in  the  fierce  political  changes  of  the 
time ; — changes  so  various  and  so  opposite,  that  those 
who  escaped  from  the  consequences  of  one '‘were  often, 
on  that  very  account,  sure  to  suffer  in  the  next  that 
followed. 

The  young  men  who,  during  this  disastrous  period, 
were  just  beginning  to  unfold  their  promise,  were 
checked  at  the  outset  of  their  career.  Martinez  de 
la  Rosa,  five  years  a prisoner  of  state  on  a rock  in  Af- 
rica before  he  had  reached  the  age  of  thirty;  Angel 
de  Rivas,  still  younger,  left  for  dead  on  the  bloody  field 
of  Ocaha ; Galiano,  sentenced  to  the  scaffold  while  he 
was  earning  his  daily  bread  by  daily  labor  as  a teacher 
in  London ; Torreno,  brought  home  on  his  bier,  as  he 


3 Llorente,  Hist,  de  ITnquisition, 
Tom.  IV.  pp.  145  - 154.  Southey’s 
History  of  the  Peninsular  War,  Lon- 
don, 1823,  4to,  Tom.  I.  The  Inqui- 
sition was  again  abolished  by  the 
revolution  or  change  of  1820,  and 
when  tlie  counterchange  came,  in 


1823,  failed  to  find  its  place  in  the 
restored  order  of  things.  It  may  be 
hoped,  therefore,  that  this  most  odious 
of  the  institutions,  that  have  sheltered 
themselves  under  the  abused  name  of 
Christianity,  will  never  again  darken 
the  history  of  Spain. 


348 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III. 


returned  from  liis  third  exile ; Arriaza  serving  in  the 
armies  of  Ferdinand ; Arjona  and  Barbero  silenced ; 
Xavier  de  Burgos  plundered ; Gallego,  Xerica,  Hermo- 
silla,  Mauri,  Mora,  Tapia;  — these,  and  many  others, 
all  young  men  and  full  of  the  hopes  that  letters  in- 
spire in  generous  spirits,  VFere  seized  upon  by  the  pas- 
sions of  party  or  the  demands  of  patriotism,  and  hurried 
into  paths  far  from  the  pursuits  to  which  their  talents, 
their  taste,  and  their  social  relations  would  alike  have 
dedicated  them ; — pursuits  on  which,  in  fact,  they  had 
already  entered,  and  to  which  they  have  since  owed  their 
most  brilliant  and  enduring  distinctions,  as  well  as  their 
truest  happiness. 

Those  who  were  older,  and  had  been  before  marked 
by  success  and  public  favor,  fared  still  worse.  The  eyes 
of  men  had  already  been  fastened  upon  them,  and  in 
the  conflict  and  crush  of  the  contending  factions  they 
were  sure  to  suffer,  as  one  or  another  prevailed  in  the 
long-protracted  struggle.  Jovellanos  and  Cienfuegos, 
as  we  have  seen,  were  almost  instantly  martyrs  to  their 
patriotism.  Melendez  Valdes  sunk  a later  and  more 
miserable  victim.  Conde  and  Escoiquiz  were  exiled  for 
opposite  reasons.  Moratin,  after  having  faced  death 
in  the  frightful  form  of  want  in  his  own  country,  sur- 
vived to  a fate  in  France  hardly  less  to  be  dreaded. 
Quintana  was  cast  by  his  ungrateful  sovereign  into  the 
Bastile  of  Pamplona,  with  an  apparent  intention  that 
he  should  perish  there.  To  all  of  them  the  happiness 
of  success  in  letters,  to  which  they  had  been  accustomed 
amidst  the  encouragement  of  their  friends  and  country- 
men, was  denied ; • — from  all,  the  hopes  of  fame  seemed 
to  be  cut  off.  Most  of  them,  and  most  of  the  small  class 
to  which  they  belonged,  passed,  as  voluntary  or  involun- 
tary exiles,  beyond  the  limits  of  a country  which  they 


Chap.  VII.] 


REVIVAL  OF  LETTERS. 


349 


might  still  be  compelled  to  love,  hut  which  they  could 
no  longer  respect.  The  rest  were  silent.  It  was  an  in- 
terregnum in  all  elegant  culture,  such  as  no  modern 
nation  had  yet  seen,  — not  even  Spain  herself  during 
the  War  of  the  Succession. 

But  it  was  not  possible  that  such  a state  of  things 
should  become  permanent  and  normal.  Even  while 
Ferdinand  the  Seventh  was  living,  a movement  was 
begun,  the  first  traces  of  which  are  to  be  found  among 
the  emigrated  Spaniards,  who  cheered  with  letters  their 
exile  in  England  and  France,  and  whose  subsequent 
progress,  from  the  time  when  the  death  of  that  unfaith- 
ful monarch  permitted  them  to  return  home,  is  distinctly 
perceptible  in  their  own  country.^  What  precise  direc- 
tion this  movement  may  hereafter  take,  or  where  it  may 
end,  it  is  not  given  us  to  foresee.  Perhaps  too  much 
of  foreign  influence,  and  too  great  a tendency  to  infuse 
the  spirit  of  the  North  into  a poetry  whose  nature  is 
peculiarly  Southern,  may,  for  a time,  divert  it  from  its 
true  course.  Or  perhaps  the  national  genius,  springing 
forward  through  all  that  opposes  its  instincts,  and  shak- 
ing off  whatever  encumbers  it  with  ill-considered  help, 
may  press  directly  onward,  and  complete  the  canon  of  a 
literature  whose  forms,  often  only  sketched  by  the  great 
masters  of  its  age  of  glory,  remain  yet  to  be  filled  out 
and  finished  in  the  grandeur  and  grace  of  their  proper 
proportions. 

But,  whether  a great  advancement  may  soon  be  hoped 
for  or  not,  one  thing  is  certain.  The  law  of  progress  is 
on  Spain  for  good  or  for  evil,  as  it  is  on  the  other  na- 

4 This  movement,  so  honorable  to  London,  in  7 vols.  8vo,  between  April, 
the  Spanish  character,  can  be  seen  in  1824,  and  October,  1827,  by  the  ex- 
the  “ Ocios  de  Espaaoles  Emigrados,”  iles,  who  were  then  chiefly  gathered 
a Spanish  periodical  work,  full  of  tal-  in  the  capitals  of  France  and  England, 
ent  and  national  feeling,  published  at 

DD 


350 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [Period  III 


tions  of  the  earth,  and  her  destiny,  like  theirs,  is  in  the 
hand  of  God,  and  will  be  fulfilled.  The  material  re- 
sources of  her  soil  and  position  are  as  great  as  those  of 
any  people  that  noAv  occupies  its  meted  portion  of  the 
globe.  The  mass  of  her  inhabitants,  and  especially  of 
her  peasantry,  has  been  less  changed,  and  in  many  re- 
spects less  corrupted,  by  the  revolutions  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, than  any  of  the  nations  who  have  pressed  her 
borders,  or  contended  with  her  power.  They  are  the 
same  race  of  men,  who  tAvice  drove  back  the  crescent 
from  the  shores  of  Europe,  and  twice  saved  from  ship- 
wreck the  great  cause  of  Christian  civilization.  They 
have  shoAvn  the  same  spirit  at  Saragossa,  that  they 
shoAved  tAvo  thousand  years  before  at  Saguntum.  They 
are  not  a ruined  people.  And,  while  they  preserve  the 
sense  of  honor,  the  sincerity,  and  the  contempt  for  what 
is  sordid  and  base,  that  have  so  long  distinguished  their 
national  character,  they  cannot  be  ruined. 

Nor,  I trust,  Avill  such  a people  — still  proud  and 
faithful  m its  less  favored  masses,  if  not  in  those  por- 
tions Avhose  names  dimly  shadoAV  forth  the  glory  they 
have  inherited  — fail  to  create  a literature  appropriate  to 
a character  in  its  nature  so  poetical.  The  old  ballads 
will  not  nideed  return ; for  the  feelings  that  produced 
them  are  with  by-gone  things.  The  old  drama  Avill  not 
be  reviA^ed ; — society,  even  in  Spain,  AA'ould  not  now  en- 
dure its  excesses.  The  old  chroniclers  themselves,  if 
they  should  come  back,  would  find  no  miracles  of  valor 
or  superstition  to  record,  and  no  credulity  fond  enough 
to  believe  them.  Their  poets  Avill  not  again  be  monks 
and  soldiers,  as  they  were  in  the  days  Avhen  the  mflu- 
ences  of  the  old  religious  wars  and  hatreds  gave  both 
their  brightest  and  darkest  colors  to  the  elements  of  so- 
cial life ; for  the  civilization  that  struck  its  roots  into 


Chap.  VII.] 


PROSPECTS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


351 


that  soil  has  died  out  for  want  of  nourishment.  But 
the  Spanish  people  — that  old  Castilian  race,  that  came 
from  the  mountains  and  filled  the  whole  land  with  their 
spirit  — have,  I trust,  a future  before  them  not  unwor- 
thy of  their  ancient  fortunes  and  fame ; a future  full  of 
materials  for  a generous  history,  and  a poetry  still  more 
generous ; — happy  if  they  have  been  taught,  by  the  ex- 
perience of  the  past,  that,  Avhile  reverence  for  whatever 
is  noble  and  worthy  is  of  the  essence  of  poetical  inspi- 
ration, and,  while  religious  faith  and  feelmg  constitute 
its  true  and  sure  foundations,  there  is  yet  a loyalty  to 
mere  rank  and  place,  which  degrades  alike  its  possessor 
and  him  it  would  honor,  and  a blind  submission  to 
priestly  authority,  which  narrows  and  debases  the  nobler 
faculties  of  the  soul  more  than  any  other,  because  it 
sends  its  poison  deeper.  But,  if  they  have  failed  to 
learn  this  solemn  lesson,  inscribed  everywhere,  as  by  the 
hand  of  Heaven,  on  the  crumbling  walls  of  their  ancient 
institutions,  then  is  their  honorable  history,  both  in 
civilization  and  letters,  closed  for  ever. 


I 


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APPENDIX. 


YOL.  III. 


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APPENDIX,  A. 


ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 

(See  Vol.  I.  pp.  11  and  47.) 

The  country  which  now  passes  under  the  name  of  Spain 
has  been  subjected  to  a greater  number  of  revolutions,  that 
have  left  permanent  traces  in  its  population,  language,  and 
literature,  than  any  other  of  the  principal  countries  of  modern 
Europe.^  At  different  periods,  within  the  reach  of  authentic 
recQsd,  it  has  been  invaded  and  occupied  by  the  Phoenicians, 
the  Romans,  the  Goths,  and  the  Arabs ; all  distinct  races  of 
men  with  pecuhar  characteristics,  and  forming,  in  their  vari- 
ous combinations  with  each  other  or  with  the  earlier  masters 
of  the  soil,  sthl  new  races  hardly  less  separate  and  remarkable 
than  themselves.  From  the  intimate  union  of  them  all,  grad- 
ually wrought  by  the  changes  and  convulsions  of  nearly  three 
thousand  years,  has  arisen  the  present  Spanish  people,  whose 
literature,  extending  back  about  seven  centuries,  has  been  ex- 
amined in  the  preceding  volumes. 

But  it  is  difficult  fully  to  examine  or  understand  the  htera- 
tm'e  of  any  country,  without  understanding  something,  at  least, 
of  the  original  elements  and  history  of  the  language  in  which 

1 Spain,  Espagne,  Espana,  Hispa-  full  of  the  most  absurd  conjectures  on 
nia,  are  evidently  all  one  word.  Its  the  subject.  See  Aldrete,  Orlgen  de 
etymology  cannot,  in  the  opinion  of  la  Lengua  Castellana,  ed.  1674,  Lib. 
W.  von  Humboldt,  (Priifung  der  III.  c.  2,  f.  68 ; Mariana,  Hist.,  Lib. 
Untersuchungen  Ciber  die  Urbewohner  1.  c.  12;  and  Mendoza,  Guerra  de 
Hispaniens,  4to,  1821,  p.  60,)  be  de-  Granada,  ed.  1776,  Lib.  IV.,  p.  295. 
termined.  The  Spanish  writers  are 


356 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


it  is  contained,  and  on  which  no  small  portion  of  its  essential 
character  must  depend  ; while,  at  the  same  time,  a knowledge 
of  the  origin  of  the  language  necessarily  implies  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  nations  that,  by  successive  contributions,  have 
constituted  it  such  as  it  is  found  in  the  final  forms  of  its  po- 
etry and  elegant  prose.  As  a needful  appendix,  therefore,  to 
the  history  of  Spanish  literature,  a very  brief  account  will  be 
here  given  of  the  different  occupants  of  the  soil  of  the  coun- 
try, who,  in  a greater  or  less  degree,  have  contributed  to  form 
the  present  character  both  of  the  Spanish  people  and  of  their 
language  and  culture. 

The  oldest  of  these,  and  the  people  who,  since  we  can  go 
back  no  farther,  must  be  by  us  regarded  as  the  original  inhab- 
itants of  the  Spanish  Peninsula,  were  the  Iberians.  They 
appear,  at  the  remotest  period  of  which  tradition  affords  us 
any  notice,  to  have  been  spread  over  the  whole  territory,  and 
to  have  given  to  its  mountains,  rivers,  and  cities  most  of  the 
names  they  still  bear,  — a fierce  race,  whose  power  has  never 
been  entirely  broken  by  any  of  the  long  line  of  invaders  who, 
at  different  times,  have  occupied  the  rest  of  the  country. 
Even  at  this  moment,  a body  of  their  descendants,  less  affect- 
ed than  we  should  have  supposed  possible  by  intercourse 
with  the  various  nations  that  have  successively  pressed  their 
borders,  is  believed,  with  a good  degree  of  probability,  to 
be  recognized  under  the  name  of  Biscayans,  inhabiting  the 
mountains  in  the  northwestern  portion  of  modern  Spain. 
But,  whether  this  be  true  or  not,  the  Biscayans,  down  to  the 
present  day,  have  been  a singular  and  a separate  race.  They 
have  a peculiar  language,  peculiar  local  institutions,  and  a lit- 
erature which  is  carried  back  to  a remoter  antiquity  than  that 
of  any  other  people  now  possessing,  not  the  soil  of  the  Span- 
ish Peninsula  merely,  but  of  any  part  of  Southern  Europe. 
They  are,  in  fact,  a people  who  seem  to  have  been  left  as  a 
solitary  race,  hardly  connected,  even  by  those  ties  of  language 
which  outlive  all  others,  with  any  race  of  men  now  in  exist- 
ence or  on  record ; some  of  their  present  customs  and  popular 
fables  claiming  to  have  come  down  from  an  age,  of  which 
history  and  tradition  give  only  doubtful  intimations.  The 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


357 


most  probable  conjecture  yet  proposed  to  explain  what  there 
is  peculiar  and  remarkable  about  the  Biscayans  and  their  lan- 
guage is  that  which  supposes  them  to  be  descended  from 
those  ancient  and  mysterious  Iberians,  whose  language  seems 
to  have  been,  at  one  period,  spread  through  the  whole  Penin- 
sula, and  to  have  left  traces  which  are  recognized  even  in  the 
present  Spanish.® 

The  fu'st  inti'uders  upon  the  Iberians  were  the  Celts,  who, 
according  to  Doctor  Percy’s  theory,  constituted  the  foremost 
wave  of  the  successive  emigrations  that  broke  upon  Em’ope 
from  the  overflowing  multitudes  of  Asia.  At  what  precise 
period  the  Celts  reached  Spain,  or  any  other  of  the  Western 
countries  they  overran,  can  no  longer  be  determined.  But 
the  contest  between  the  invaders  of  the  soil  and  its  possessors 


2 On  the  subject  of  the  Biscayans 
and  the  descent  of  their  language  from 
the  ancient  Iberian,  two  references 
are  sufficient  for  the  present  purpose. 
First,  “ Uber  die  Cantabrische  oder 
Baskische  Sprache,”  by  Wilhelm  von 
Humboldt,  published  as  an  Appendix 
to  Adelung  and  Vater’s  “ Mithri- 
dates,”  Theil  IV.,  1817,  8vo,  pp. 
•275-360.  And,  second,  “ Priifung 
der  Untersuchungen  iiber  die  Urbe- 
wohner  Hispaniens  vermittelst  der 
Vaskischen  Sprache,”  etc.,  von  W. 
von  Humboldt,  4to,  Berlin,  1821. 
The  admirable  learning,  philosophy, 
and  acuteness  which  this  remarkable 
man  brought  to  all  his  philological 
discussions  are  apparent  in  these  trea- 
tises, both  of  which  are  rendered 
singularly  satisfactory  by  the  circum- 
stance, that,  being  for  some  time 
Prussian  Minister  at  Madrid,  he  visited 
Biscay  and  studied  its  language  on  the 
spot.  The  oldest  fragment  of  Basque 
poetry  which  he  found,  and  which  is 
given  in  the  “ Mithridates,”  (Theil  IV. 
pp.  354-356,)  is  held  by  the  learned 
of  Biscay  to  be  nearly  or  quite  as  old 
as  the  time  of  Augustus,  to  whose 
Cantabrian  war  it  refers  ; but  this  can 
hardly  be  admitted,  though  it  is  no 
doubt  earlier  than  any  thing  else  we 
have  of  the  Peninsular  literature.  It 
is  an  important  document,  and  is  ex- 
amined with  his  accustomed  learning 


and  acuteness  by  Fauriel,  “ Hist,  de- 
la  Gaule  Meridionale,”  1836,  8vo, 
Tom.  II.  App.  iii.  I do  not  speak  of 
a pleasant  treatise,  “ He  la  Antigue- 
dad  y Universalidad  del  Bascuense  en 
Espana,”  which  Larramendi  publish- 
ed in  1728,  nor  of  the  Preface  and 
Appendix  to  his  “ Arte  de  la  Lengua 
Bascongada,”  1729  ; nor  of  Astarloa’s 
“Apologia,”  1803;  nor  of  Erro’s 
“Lengua  Primitiva,”  1806,  and  liis 
“ Mundo  Primitive,”  an  unfinished 
work,  1815 ; for  they  all  lack  judg- 
ment and  precision.  If,  however,  any 
person  is  anxious  to  ascertain  their 
contents,  a good  abstract  of  the  last 
two  books,  with  sufficient  reference 
to  the  first,  was  published  in  Boston, 
by  Mr.  G.  Waldo  Erving,  formerly 
American  Minister  at  Madrid,  with  a 
preface  and  notes,  under  the  title  of 
“ The  Alphabet  of  the  Primitive  Lan- 
guage of  Spain,”  1829.  But  Hum- 
boldt is  to  be  considered  the  safe  and 
sufficient  authority  on  the  whole  sub- 
ject, for  though  Astarloa’s  work  is  not 
without  learning  and  acuteness,  yet, 
as  both  he  and  his  follower,  Erro, 
labor  chiefly  to  prove,  as  Larramendi 
had  done  long  before,  that  the  Basque 
is  the  original  language  of  the  whole 
human  race,  they  are  led  into  a great 
many  whimsical  absurdities,  and  must 
be  considered,  on  the  whole,  any  thing 
but  safe  guides. 


358 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


was,  from  the  few  intimations  of  it  that  have  come  down  to 
us,  long  and  bloody ; and,  as  was  generally  the  case  in  the 
early  successful  invasions  of  countries  by  wandering  masses 
of  the  human  race,  portions  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  were 
driven  to  the  fastnesses  of  their  mountains,  and  the  remain- 
der became  gradually  incorporated  with  the  conquerors.  The 
new  people,  thus  formed  of  two  races  that,  in  antiquity,  had 
the  reputation  of  being  warlike  and  powerful,  was  appro- 
priately called  the  Celtiberian,^  and  constituted  the  body  of 
the  population  which,  broken  into  various  tribes,  but  with  sim- 
ilar manners  and  institutions,  occupied  the  Peninsula  when  it 
first  became  known  to  the  civilized  nations  of  Europe.  The 
language  of  the  Celts,  as  might  be  expected,  is  represented  in 
the  present  Spanish,  as  it  is  in  the  French  and  even  in  the 
Italian,  though  but  slightly,  of  course,  in  any  of  them.^ 

Thus  far,  all  access  to  Spain  had  been  by  land  ; for,  in  the 
earliest  periods  of  the  world’s  history,  no  other  mode  of  emi- 
gration or  invasion  was  known.  But  the  Phoenicians,  the 
oldest  commercial  people  of  classical  antiquity,  soon  after- 
wards found  their  way  thither  over  the  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. At  what  time  they  arrived  in  Spain,  or  where  they 
made  their  first  establishment,  is  not  known.  A mystery 
hangs  over  this  remarkable  people,  darker  than  belongs  to  the 


3 The  remarkable  passage  in  Dio- 
dorus Siculus,  Bib.  Hist. , Lib.  V.  c.  33, 
is  well  known ; but  the  phraseology 
should  be  noted  for  our  purpose  when 
he  speaks  of  the  union  of  the  people 
as  bvoLV  i6vo>v  ahKifioiv  pi-gOivTav. 
The  fortieth  section  of  Humboldt’s 
“ Priifung  ” should  also  be  read  ; and 
the  beginning  of  the  Third  Book 
of  Strabo,  in  which  he  gives,  as 
usual,  a good  deal  that  is  curious 
about  history  and  manners,  as  well  as 
geography,  and  a good  deal  that  is  in- 
credible, such  as  that  the  Turdetani  had 
poetry  and  poetical  laws  six  thousand 
years  old.  Ed.Casaub.,  1720,  p.  139.  C. 

4 In  speaking  of  the  two  earliest 
languages  of  the  Spanish  Peninsula, 
I have  confined  myself  to  the  known 
facts  of  the  case,  without  entering 
into  the  curious  speculations  to  which 


these  facts  have  led  inquisitive  and 
philosophical  minds.  But  those  who 
are  interested  in  such  inquiries  will 
find  abundant  materials  for  their  study 
in  the  remarkable  “ Researches  into 
the  Physical  History  of  Mankind,  by 
Dr.  J.  C.  Prichard,”  5 vols.  8vo, 
London,  1836-47;  and  in  the  acute 
“Report”  of  the  Chevalier  Bunsen 
to  the  Seventeenth  Meeting  of  the 
British  Association,  London,  1848, 
pp.  254  - 299.  If  we  follow  their 
theories,  the  Basque  may  be  regarded 
as  the  language  of  a race  that  came 
originally  from  the  northern  parts  of 
Asia  and  Europe,  and  to  which  Prich- 
ard gives  the  name  of  Ugro-Tartarian, 
while  the  Celtic  language  is  that  of 
the  oldest  of  the  great  emigrations  from 
the  more  southern  portions  of  Asia, 
which  Bunsen  calls  the  Japhetic. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


359 


age  in  which  they  lived,  and  connected,  no  doubt,  with  the 
wary  spirit  in  which  they  pursued  their  commercial  adven- 
tures. Their  position  at  home  made  colonization  the  obvious 
and  almost  the  only  means  of  commercial  wealth  among  them, 
and  Spain  proved  the  most  tempting  of  the  countries  to  which 
their  power  could  reach.  Their  chief  Spanish  colonies  were 
near  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  our  pres- 
ent Cadiz,  which  they  probably  founded,  and  about  the  mouth 
and  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir.  Their  great  object 
was  the  mines  of  precious  metals  with  which  ancient  Spain 
abounded.  For  Spain,  from  the  earliest  notices  of  its  history 
till  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  was  the  El  Dorado  of  the 
rest  of  the  world,  and  furnished  a large  proportion  of  the  ma- 
terials for  its  circulating  wealth.^  During  a long  period,  too, 
these  mines  seem  to  have  been  known  only  to  the  Phoeni- 
cians, who  thus  reserved  to  themselves  the  secret  of  a gi'eat 
power  and  influence  over  the  nations  near  them,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  — establishing  colonies,  as  was  their  custom,  to 
secure  the  sources  of  their  wealth,  — they  carried  their  lan- 
guage and  manners  through  a considerable  part  of  the  South 
of  Spain,  and  even  far  round  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic.® 
But  the  Phoenicians  had  still  earlier  founded  a colony  on 
the  northern  coast  of  Africa,  which,  under  the  name  of  Car- 
thage, was  destined  to  gi’ow  more  powerful  than  the  country 
that  sent  it  forth.  Its  means  were  the  same  ; for  the  Cartha- 
ginians became  eminently  a commercial  people,  and  depend- 
ed, in  no  small  degree,  upon  the  resources  of  their  colonies. 


5 The  general  statement  may,  per- 
haps, be  taken  from  Mariana,  (Lib.  I. 
e.  15,)  who  gives  the  story  as  it  has 
come  down  through  tradition,  fable,  and 
history,  with  no  more  critical  acumen 
than  is  common  with  the  Spanish  his- 
torians. But  such  separate  facts  as 
are  mentioned  by  Livy  (Lib.  XXXI V. 
c.  10,  46,  Lib.  XL.  c.  43,  with  the 
notes  in  Drakenborch)  bring  with 
them  a more  distinct  impression  of  the 
immense  wealth  obtained  anciently 
from  Spain  than  any  general  state- 
ments whatever ; even  more  than  those 
of  Strabo,  Diodorus,  etc.  It  has  been 
supposed  by  Heeren,  and  by  others  be- 


fore and  since,  (Ideen,  1824,  Band  1. 
Theil  ii.  p.  68,)  that  the  Tarshish  of 
the  Prophets  Ezekiel  (xxvii.  12)  and 
Isaiah  (lx.  8,  9)  was  in  Spain,  and 
was,  in  fact,  the  ancient  Tartessus; 
but  this  is  denied,  (Memoriae  de  la 
Academia  de  la  Historia,  Tom.  III. 
p.  320,)  and,  no  doubt,  if  the  Tarshish 
of  the  Prophets  were  in  Spain,  there 
must  have  been  another  Tarshish  in 
Cilicia,  that  is  mentioned  in  other 
parts  of  Scripture. 

6 See  Heeren’s  Ideen,  Band  1. 
Theil  ii.  pp.  24-71,  4th  edit.,  1824, 
where  the  whole  subject  is  discussed. 


360 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


They  trod  closely  and  almost  constantly  in  the  footsteps  of 
their  mother  country,  and  often  supplanted  her  power.  It 
was,  in  fact,  through  the  Phoenician  colonies  that  the  Cartha- 
ginians entered  Spain,  whose  tempting  territory  was  divided 
from  them  only  by  the  Mediten-anean.  But  for  a long  period, 
though  they  maintained  a large  military  force  in  Cadiz,  and 
stretched  their  possessions  boldly  and  successfully  along  the 
Spanish  shores,  they  did  not  seem  inclined  to  penetrate  far 
into  the  interior,  or  to  do  more  than  occupy  enough  of  the 
country  to  overawe  its  population  and  control  its  trade. 
When,  however,  the  First  Punic  War  had  rendered  Spain  of 
more  consequence  to  the  Carthaginians  than  it  had  ever  beeir 
before,  they  undertook  its  entire  conquest  and  occupation. 
Under  Haiuilcar,  the  father  of  Hannibal,  about  two  hundred 
and  twenty-seven  years  before  the  Christian  era,  they  spread 
themselves  at  once  over  nearly  the  whole  country,  as  far  as 
the  Iberus,  and,  building  Carthagena  and  some  other  strong 
places,  seemed  to  have  taken  final  possession  of  the  Peninsula, 
on  wliich  the  Romans  had  not  yet  set  foot. 

The  Romans,  however,  were  not  slow  to  perceive  the  ad- 
^■antage  their  dangerous  rivals  had  gained.  By  the  first  treaty 
of  peace  made  between  these  great  powers,  it  was  stipulated, 
that  the  Carthaginians  should  advance  no  farther,  — should 
neither  molest  Saguntum  nor  cross  the  Iberus.  Hannibal 
violated  these  conditions,  and  the  Second  Punic  War  broke 
out,  twm  hundred  and  eighteen  years  before  the  Christian  era. 
The  Scipios  entered  Spain  in  consequence  of  it ; and  at  its 
conclusion,  in  the  year  B.  C.  201,  the  Carthaginians  had  no 
longer  any  possessions  in  Em-ope,  though,  as  descendants  of 
the  Phoenicians,  they  left  in  the  population  and  language 
of  Spain  ti'aces  which  have  never  been  wholly  obliterated.’^ 

But,®  though,  by  the  Second  Punic  War,  the  Carthaginians 


A sufficient  account  of  the  Cartha- 
ginians in  Spain  may  be  found  in 
Heeren’s  Ideen,  Band  II.  Theil  i.  pp. 
85  - 99,  and  172  - 199.  But  Mariana 
contains  the  more  national  ideas  and 
traditions,  (Lib.  I.  c.  19,  etc.,)  and 
Depping  is  more  ample  (Hist.  Gene- 


rale  de  I’Espagne,  1811,  Tom.  I.  pp. 
64-96). 

8 Of  the  Greeks  in  Spain,  it  has  not 
been  thought  necessary  here  to  speak. 
Their  few  establishments  were  on  the 
southern  coast,  and  rather  on  the  east- 
ern part  of  it ; but  they  were  of  little 


App.  A ] ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE.  361 

were  thus  driven  from  the  Spanish  Peninsula,  the  Romans 
were  far  from  having  obtained  unmolested  or  secm’e  posses- 
sion of  it.  The  Carthaginians  themselves,  even  when  en- 
gaged in  a commerce  whose  spirit  was,  on  the  whole,  peace- 
ful, had  never  ceased  to  be  in  contest  with  the  warlike  Celti- 
berian  tribes  of  the  interior  ; and  the  Romans  were  obliged  to 
accept  the  inheritance  of  a warfare  to  which,  in  their  charac- 
ter of  intruders,  they  naturally  succeeded.  The  Roman  Sen- 
ate, indeed,  according  to  their  usual  policy,  chose  to  regard 
Spain,  from  the  end  of  the  Second  Punic  War,  both  as  con- 
quered and  as  a province ; and,  in  truth,  they  had  really  ob- 
tained permanent  and  quiet  possession  of  a considerable  part 
of  it.  But,  from  the  time  when  the  Roman  armies  first  en- 
tered the  Peninsula  until  they  became  masters  of  the  whole 
of  it,  — except  the  mountains  of  the  Northwest,  which  never 
yielded  to  their  power,  — two  complete  centuries  elapsed, 
filled  with  bloodshed  and  crime.  No  province  cost  the  Roman 


consequence,  and  do  not  seem  to  have 
produced  any  lasting  effect  on  the 
character  or  language  of  the  country. 
They  were,  in  fact,  rather  a result  of 
the  influence  of  the  rich  and  cultivated 
Greek  colony  in  the  South  of  France, 
whose  capital  seat  was  Marseilles,  or 
of  the  spirit  which  in  Rhodes  and 
elsewhere  sent  out  adventurers  to  the 
far  west.  (See  Benedictins,  Hist. 
Litt.  de  la  France,  1733,  4to,  Tom.  I. 
pp.  71,  etc.)  For  those  who  are 
curious  about  the  Greeks  in  Spain, 
more  than  they  will  probably  desire 
will  be  found  in  the  elaborate  and 
clumsy  work  of  Masdeu,  Hist.  Grit, 
de  Espaiia,  Tom.  I.  p.  211,  Tom.  HI. 
pp.  76,  etc.  Aldrete  (Origen  de  la 
Lengua  Espafiola,  1674,  f.  65)  has 
collected  about  ninety  Spanish  words 
to  which  he  attributes  a Greek  origin  ; 
but  nearly  all  of  them  may  be  easily 
traced  through  the  Latin,  or  else  they 
belong  to  the  Northern  invaders  or  to 
Italy.  IMarina,  a good  authority  on 
this  particular  point,  says  : “ I do  not 
deny,  nor  can  it  be  doubted,  that,  in 
the  Spanish  language,  are  found  many 
words  purely  Greek,  and  occasional 
phrases  and  turns  of  expression  that 

46 


are  in  Attic  taste  ; but  this  is  because 
they  had  first  been  adopted  by  the 
Latin  language,  which  is  the  mother 
of  ours.”  Mem.  de  la  Real  Acad., 
Tom.  IV.,  Ensayo,  etc.,  p.  47.  There 
is  a curious  inscription  in  Nunes  de 
Liao,  (Origem  da  Lingoa  Portugesa. 
Lisboa,  1784,  p.  32,)  from  a temple 
erected  by  Greeks  at  Ampurias  to 
Diana  of  Ephesus,  which  states,  that 
“ nec  relicta  Graecorum  lingua,  nec 
idiomate  patriae  Iberae  recepto,  in  mo- 
res, in  linguani,  in  jura,  in  ditionem 
cessere  Roma/iam,  M.  Cathego  et  L. 
Apronio  Goss.”  No  doubt,  these 
Greeks  came  from  Marseilles,  or  were 
connected  with  it ; and  no  doubt  they 
spoke  Latin.  But  the  ancient  Ibe- 
rian language  seems  to  be  recog- 
nized as  existing,  also,  among  them. 
Ampurias,  however,  was  generally 
in  Spain  held  to  be  of  Greek  origin, 
as  we  may  see  in  different  ways,  and 
among  the  rest  in  the  following  lines 
of  Espinosa,  who,  when  Alambron 
comes  there  with  the  Infanta  Fenisa, 
says  : — 

Juntan  a la  ciudad,  que  fue  fundada 

Ve  cantos  Griegos,  rica  y baslecida. 
Segunda  Parte  de  Orlando,  ed.  1556,  Canto  xxxi. 

EE 


VOL.  III. 


362 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


people  a price  so  great.  The  struggle  for  Numantia,  which 
lasted  fourteen  years,  the  wars  against  Viriates,  and  the  war 
of  Sertorius,  — to  say  nothing  of  that  between  Pompey  and 
Caesar,  — all  show  the  formidable  character  of  the  protracted 
contest  by  which  alone  the  Roman  power  could  be  confirm- 
ed in  the  Peninsula ; so  that,  though  Spain  was  the  first  por- 
tion of  the  continent  out  of  Italy  which  the  Romans  began 
to  occupy  as  a province,  it  was  the  very  last  of  which  their 
possession  was  peaceful  and  unquestioned.® 

From  the  outset,  however,  there  was  a tendency  to  a union 
between  the  two  races,  wherever  the  conquerors  were  able  to 
establish  quietness  and  order ; for  the  vast  advantages  of 
Roman  civilization  could  be  obtained  only  by  the  adoption 
of  Roman  manners  and  the  Latin  language.  This  union, 
from  the  great  importance  of  the  province,  the  Romans  desired 
no  less  than  the  natives.  Forty-seven  years  only  after  they 
entered  Spain,  a colony,  consisting  of  a large  body  of  the  de- 
scendants from  the  mingled  blood  of  Romans  and  natives, 
was  established  by  a formal  decree  of  the  Senate,  with  priv- 
ileges beyond  the  usual  policy  of  their  government.^®  A little 
later,  colonies  of  aU  kinds  were  greatly  multiplied ; and  it  is 
impossible  to  read  Csesar  and  Livy  without  feeling  that  the 
Roman  policy  was  more  generous  to  Spain,  than  it  was  to  any 
other  of  the  countries  that  successively  came  within  its  control. 
Tarragona,  where  the  Scipios  first  landed,  Carthagena,  found- 
ed by  Asdrubal,  and  Cordova,  always  so  important,  early 
took  the  forms  and  character  of  the  larger  municipalities  in 
Italy ; and,  in  the  time  of  Strabo,  Cadiz,  for  numbers,  wealth, 
and  activity,  was  second  only  to  Rome  itself.^^  Long,  there- 

particularly  Vol.  I.,  ed.  Franzii,  177&. 
p.  547.  A striking  proof  of  the  im- 
portance of  Spain,  in  antiquity  gener- 
ally, may  be  found  in  the  fact  inciden- 
tally stated  by  W.  von  Humboldt, 
(Priifung,  etc.,  § 2,  p.  3,)  that  “an- 
cient writers  have  left  us  a great  num- 
ber of  Spanish  names  of  places  ; — in 
proportion,  a greater  number  than  of 
any  other  country  except  Greece  and 
Italy.  ’ ’ 


9 Livius,  Hist.  Rom.,  Lib.  XXVIH. 
c.  12.  The  words  are  remarkable. 
“ Itaque  ergo  prima  Romanis  inita 
provinciarum,  quae  quidem  continentis 
sint,  postrema  omnium,  nostra  demum 
aetate,  ductu  auspicioque  Augusti  Cae- 
saris,  perdomita  est.” 

Livius,  Hist.  Rom.,  Lib.  XLIII. 

c.  3. 

Strabo,  Lib.  HI.,  especially  pp. 
168, 169,  ed.  Casaubon,  fol.,  1620;  and 
Plin.jHist.  Nat.,  Lib.  HI.  2-4,  but 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


363 


fore,  before  Agrippa  had  broken  the  power  of  the  mountain- 
eers at  the  North,  the  whole  South,  with  its  rich  and  luxuriant 
valleys,  had  become  like  another  Italy ; a fact,  of  which  the 
descriptions  in  the  third  book  of  Pliny’s  Natural  History  can 
leave  no  reasonable  doubt.  To  this,  however,  we  should  add 
the  remarkable  circumstance,  that  the  Emperor  Vespasian, 
soon  after  the  pacification  of  the  North,  found  it  for  his  in- 
terest to  extend  to  the  whole  of  Spain  the  privileges  of  the 
municipalities  in  Latium.^^ 

Spaniards,  too,  earlier  than  any  other  strangers,  obtained 
those  distinctions  of  which  the  Romans  themselves  were  so 
ambitious,  and  which  they  so  reluctantly  granted  to  any  but 
native  citizens.  The  first  foreigner  that  ever  rose  to  the  con- 
sulship was  Balbus,  from  Cadiz,  and  he,  too,  was  the  first 
foreigner  that  ever  gained  the  honors  of  a public  triumph. 
The  first  foreigner  that  ever  sat  on  the  throne  of  the  world 
was  Trajan,  a native  of  Italica,  near  Seville;’^  and  indeed,  if 
we  examine  the  history  of  Rome  from  the  time  of  Hannibal  to 
the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire,  we  shall  probably  find  that 
no  part  of  the  world,  beyond  the  limits  of  Italy,  contributed  so 
much  to  the  resources,  wealth,  and  power  of  the  capital,  as 
Spain,  and  that  no  province  received,  in  return,  so  large  a 
share  of  the  honors  and  dignities  of  the  Roman  government. 

On  all  accounts,  therefore,  the  connection  between  Rome 
and  Spain  was  intimate,  and  the  civilization  and  refinement 
of  the  province  took  their  character  early  from  those  of  the 
capital.  SertoriiTS  found  it  a wise  policy  to  cause  the  children 
of  the  principal  native  families  to  be  taught  Latin  and  Greek, 
and  to  become  accomplished  in  the  literature  and  elegant 
knowledge  to  be  found  in  those  admirable  languages ; and 
when,  ten  years  later,  Metellus,  in  his  turn,  had  crushed  the 
power  of  Sertorius,  and  came  home  triumphant  to  Rome,  he 
brought  with  him  a number  of  native  Cordovan  poets,  against 

Plin.,  Hist.  Nat.,  Lib.  Vn.  c.  44,  '3  Plin.,  Hist.  Nat.,  Lib.  V.  c.  5, 

■where  the  distinction  is  spoken  of  as  with  the  note  of  Hardouin,  and  with 
something  surprising,  since  Pliny  Antonio,  Bibliotheca  Hispana  Vetus, 
adds,  that  it  was  “an  honor  which  fol.,  1787,  Lib.  I.  c.  ii. 
our  ancestors  refused  even  to  those  of  Plutarchus  in  Sertorium,  c.  14. 
Latium.’’ 


364 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


whose  Latinity  the  fastidious  ear  of  Cicero  was  able  to  object 

only  that  then-  accent  had  pingue  quiddam atque  pere- 

grinmi,  — something  thick,  or  rude,  and  foreign.^^ 

From  this  period  Latin  writers  began  to  be  constantly  pro- 
duced in  Spaind®  Fortius  Lati’o,  a native  of  Cordova,  but  a 
public  advocate  of  the  highest  reputation  at  Rome,  opened  in 
the  metropolis  the  earliest  of  those  schools  for  Roman  rhetoric, 
that  afterwards  became  so  numerous  and  so  famous,  and, 
among  other  distinguished  men,  numbered  as  his  disciples 
Octavius  Caesar,  Maecenas,  Marcus  Agi'ippa,  and  Ovid.  The 
two  Senecas  were  Spaniards,  and  so  was  Lucan ; names 
celebrated  enough,  certainly,  to  have  conferred  lasting  glory 
on  any  city  within  the  limits  of  the  Empire.  Martial  came 
from  BilbUis,  and,  in  his  old  age,  retired  there  again  to  die  in 
peace,  amidst  the  scenes  which,  during  his  whole  life,  seem  to 
have  been  dear  to  him.  Columella,  too,  the  best  of  the  Ro- 
man writers  on  agriculture,  was  a Spaniard ; and  so,  it  is 
probable,  were  QuinctUian  and  SUius  Italicus.  Many  others 
might  be  added,  whose  rights  and  reputation  were  fully  ac- 
knowledged in  the  capital  of  the  world,  druing  the  last  days 
of  the  Republic,  or  the  best  days  of  the  Empire,  as  orators, 
poets,  and  historians ; but  their  works,  though  famous  in 
their  own  time,  have  perished  in  the  general  wi’eck  of  the 
lai’ger  part  of  ancient  hterature.  The  great  lights,  however, 
of  Roman  letters  in  Spain  are  familiar  to  all,  and  are  at  once 
recognized  as  constituting  an  important  portion  of  the  body 
of  the  Latin  classics,  and  an  essential  part  of  the  glory  of 
Roman  civilization.^'^ 


15  Pro  Archia,  ^ 10.  It  should  be 
noted  especially,  that  Cicero  makes 
them  natives  of  Cordova,  — “ CordubsB 
natis  poetis.” 

16  Some  excellent  and  closely  con- 
densed remarks  on  this  subject  may  be 
found  in  the  Introduction  to  Amedee 
Thierry’s  “ Histoire  de  la  Gaule 
sous  1’ Administration  Romaine,”  8vo, 
1840,  Tom.  I.  pp.  211  - 218  ; a work 
which  leaves  little  to  be  desired,  as 
far  as  it  goes. 

11  Of  Roman  writers  in  Spain,  the 
accounts  are  abundant.  The  first 
book,  however,  of  Antonio’s  “ Biblio- 


theca Vetus”  is  sufficient.  But,  af- 
ter all  that  has  been  written,  it  has 
always  seemed  singular  to  me  that 
Horace  should  have  used  exactly  the 
word  peritus,  when  intending  specifi- 
cally to  characterize  the  Spaniards  of 
his  time,  (II.  Od.  xx.  19,)  unless 
peritus  is  used  with  reference  to  its  re- 
lations with  experior,  rather  than  in  its 
usual  sense  of  learned.  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  speaking  of  the  Latin 
writers  produced  by  Spain,  says  they 
were  “ the  most  famous  of  their  age.” 
Hist.  Eng.,  Vol.  I.  p.  21,  London. 
1830. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


365 


After  this  period,  no  considerable  change,  that  needs  to  be 
noticed,  took  place  in  the  Spanish  Peninsula,  until  the  final 
overthrow  of  the  Roman  power.*®  Undoubtedly,  at  the  North- 
west, and  especially  among  the  mountains  and  valleys  of 
what  is  now  called  Biscay,  the  language  and  institutions  of 
Rome  were  never  established  ; ***  but,  in  all  the  remainder  of 
the  country,  whatever  there  was  of  public  policy  or  intellectu- 
al refinement  rested  on  the  basis  of  the  Roman  character  and 
of  Roman  civilization.  But  the  Roman  character  and  civil- 
ization decayed  there,  as  they  did  everywhere,  and  though, 
during  the  last  four  centuries  in  which  the  Imperial  authority 
was  acknowledged  in  Spain,  the  country  enjoyed  more  of 
tranquillity  than  was  enjoyed  in  any  other  province  within  the 
limits  of  the  Empire,  stUl,  like  the  others,  it  was  much  dis- 
turbed during  the  whole  of  this  fatal  period,  and  was  grad- 
ually yielding  to  the  common  destiny. 

It  was  during  this  troubled  interval,  that  another  great 
cause  of  change  was  introduced  into  Spain,  and  began  to 
produce  its  wide  effects  on  whatever  of  intellectual  culture 
existed  in  the  country.  This  great  cause  was  Christianity. 
The  precise  point  of  time,  or  the  precise  mode,  of  its  first  ap- 
pearance in  Spain  cannot  now  be  determined.  But  it  was 
certainly  taught  there  in  the  second  century,  and  seems  to 
have  come  in,  through  the  southern  coast,  from  Africa.^'*  At 
first,  as  elsewhere,  it  was  persecuted,  and  therefore  professed 


18  The  story  told  by  Aulus  Gellius, 
(NN.  AA.,  Lib.  XIX.  c.  9,)  about  An- 
toninus Julianus,  a Spaniard,  who  ex- 
ercised the  profession  of  a rhetorician 
at  Rome,  shows  pleasantly  that  there 
was  no  Spanish  language  at  that  time 
(circa  A.  D.  200)  except  the  Latin ; 
for  when  the  “ Greci  plusculi  ” at 
table  reproached  Antoninus  with  the 
poverty  of  Latin  literature,  they  re- 
proached him  as  one  who  was  a party 
concerned,  and  he  defended  himself 
just  as  a Roman  would  have  done,  by 
quotations  from  the  Latin  poets.  His 
patriotism  was  evidently  Roman,  and 
the  f atria  lingua  which  he  vindicated 
was  the  Latin. 

18  In  the  beautiful  fragment  of  a 
History  of  England  by  Sir  J.  Mackin- 


tosh, he  says,  ut  supra,  with  that 
spirit  of  acute  and  philosophical  gener- 
alization for  which  he  was  so  remark- 
able ; “ The  ordinary  policy  of  Rome 
was  to  confine  the  barbarians  within 
their  mountains.  ’ ’ The  striking  poem 
in  Basque,  given  by  W.  von  Humboldt, 
(Mithridates,  Band  IV.  p.  354,)  shows 
the  same  fact  in  relation  to  Biscay. 

20  Depping,  Tom.  H.  pp.  118,  etc. 
But  those  who  wish  to  see  how  absurd- 
ly even  grave  historians  can  write  on 
the  gravest  subjects  may  find  all  sorts 
of  inconsistencies,  on  the  early  history 
of  Christianity  in  Spain,  in  the  fourth 
book  of  Mariana,  as  well  as  in  most 
of  the  other  national  writers  who  have 
occasion  to  touch  upon  it. 

EE  * 


366 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Apr.  A. 


in  secret ; but,  as  early  as  the  year  300,  churches  had  been 
publicly  established,  and  from  the  time  of  Constantine  and 
Osius  of  Cordova,  it  was  the  acknowledged  and  prevalent 
religion  of  large  parts  of  the  country.  What  is  of  conse- 
quence to  us  is,  that  the  language  of  Christianity  in  Spain 
was  the  Latin.  Its  instructions  were  obviously  given  in  Lat- 
in, and  its  early  hterature,  so  far  as  it  appeared  in  Spain,  is 
found  whoUy  in  that  language.^^  This  is  very  important,  not 
only  because  it  proves  the  great  diffusion  of  the  Latin  lan- 
guage there  from  the  third  century  to  the  eighth,  but  because 
it  shows  that  no  other  language  was  left  strong  enough  to 
contend  with  it,  at  least  through  the  middle  and  southern  por- 
tions of  the  country. 

The  Christian  clergy,  however,  it  must  be  recollected,  did 
little  or  nothing  to  preserve  the  purity  of  the  Latin  language 
in  Spain,  or  to  maintain  whatever  of  an  intellectual  tone  they 
found  in  the  institutions  established  by  the  Romans.^®  How 


21  On  the  subject  of  early  Christian- 
ity in  Spain,  the  third  chapter  of  the 
fourth  book  of  Depping  contains  enough 
for  all  but  those  who  wish  to  make 
the  subject  a separate  and  especial 
study.  Such  persons  will  naturally 
look  to  Florez  and  Risco,  “ Espana  Sa- 
grada,”  and  their  authorities,  which, 
however,  must  be  consulted  with  great 
caution,  as  they  are  full  of  the  incon- 
sistencies alluded  to  in  the  last  note. 

22  One  reason  why  the  clergy  did 
little  to  preserve  the  purity  of  the 
Latin,  and  much  to  corrupt  it,  in  the 
South  of  Europe,  was,  that  they  were 
obliged  to  hold  their  intercourse  with 
the  common  people  in  the  degraded 
Latin.  And  this  intercourse,  which 
consisted  chiefly  of  instructions  given 
to  the  common  people,  was  a large 
part  of  all  the  clergy  did  in  the  early 
ages  of  the  Church.  For  the  Chris- 
tian clergy  in  Spain,  as  elsewhere,  ad- 
dressed themselves,  for  a long  period, 
to  the  lower  and  more  ignorant  classes 
of  society,  because  the  refined  and  the 
powerful  refused  to  listen  to  them. 
But  the  Latin  spoken  by  those  classes 
in  Spain,  whether  it  were  what  was 
called  the  “ lingua  rustica  ” or  not,  was 
undoubtedly  different  from  the  purer 


Latin  spoken  by  the  more  cultivated 
and  favored  classes,  just  as  it  was  in 
Italy,  and  even  much  more  than  it  was 
there.  In  addressing  the  common  peo- 
ple, their  Christian  teachers  in  Spain, 
therefore,  very  early  found  it  expe- 
dient, and  probably  necessary,  to  use 
the  degraded  Latin,  which  the  common 
people  spoke.  At  last,  as  we  learn, 
no  other  was  intelligible  to  them  ; for 
the  grammatical  Latin,  even  of  the  of- 
fice of  the  Mass,  ceased  to  be  so.  In 
this  way,  Christianity  must  have  con- 
tributed directly  and  materially  to  the 
degradation  of  the  Latin,  and  to  the 
formation  of  the  new  dialects,  just  as 
it  contributed  to  form  the  modern  char- 
acter, as  distinguished  from  the  ancient. 
Indeed,  without  entering  into  the  much 
vexed  questions  concerning  the  lingua 
rustica  or  quotidiana,  its  origin,  char- 
acter and  prevalence,  I cannot  help 
saying,  that  I am  persuaded  the  mod- 
ern languages  and  their  dialects  in  the 
South  of  Europe  were,  so  far  as  the 
Latin  was  concerned,  formed  out  of  the 
popular  and  vulgar  Latin  found  in  the 
mouths  of  the  common  people  ; and 
that  Christianity,  more  than  any  other 
single  cause,  was  the  medium  and 
means  by  which  this  change  from  one 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


367 


early  these  institutions,  and  especially  the  ancient  schools,  de- 
cayed there,  we  do  not  know  ; but  it  was  earlier  than  in  some 
other  parts  of  the  Empire.  In  the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  cen- 
turies even  the  ecclesiastics  were  sunk  into  the  grossest  igno- 
rance, so  that,  when  Gregory  the  Great,  who  was  Pope  from 
590  to  604,  warned  Licinian,  Bishop  of  Carthagena,  not  to 
give  consecration  to  persons  without  education,  Licinian  re- 
plied, that,  unless  it  were  permitted  to  consecrate  those  who 
knew  only  that  Christ  had  been  crucified,  none  could  be 
found  to  fill  the  priestly  office.®^  In  fact,  Isidore  of  Seville, 
the  famous  Archbishop  and  saint,  who  died  in  636,  is  the  last 
of  the  Spanish  ecclesiastics  that  attempted  to  write  Latin 
with  purity ; and  even  he  thought  so  ill  of  classical  antiquity, 
that  he  prohibited  the  monks  under  his  control  from  reading 
books  written  by  heathen  of  the  olden  time ; thus  taking 
away  the  only  means  of  preserving  from  its  threatened  corrup- 
tion the  language  they  wrote  and  spoke.^^  Of  course  this  cor- 
ruption advanced,  in  times  of  confusion  and  national  trouble, 
at  a rapid  pace,  until  the  spoken  language  of  the  country  be- 


to  the  other  was  brought  about.  For 
the  lingua  rustica,  see  Morhof,  De 
Patavinitate  Liviana,  capp.  vi.,  vii., 
and  ix.  ; and  Du  Cange,  De  Causis 
Corruptee  Latinitatis,  13-25,  pre- 
lixed  to  his  Glossarium. 

23  The  passage  from  Licinian  is  giv- 
en in  a note  to  Eichhorn’s  “ Allge- 
meine  Geschichte  der  Cultur,”  1799, 
8vo,  Band  II.  p.  467.  See,  also,  Cas- 
tro, Biblioteca  Espaiiola,  1786,  folio, 
Tom.  II.  p.  275. 

24  Isidore,  as  cited  at  length  in  Eich- 
horn’s “ Cultur,”  Band  II.  p.  470, 
note  (I). 

25  For  Isidorus  Hispalensis,  see  An- 
tonio, Bib.  Vet.,  Lib.  V.  capp.  iii.,  iv. ; 
and  Castro,  Bib.  Esp.,  Tom.  11.  pp. 
293-344.  I judge  Isidore’s  Latinity 
chiefly  from  his  “ Etymologiarum  Li- 
bri  XX.,”  and  his  “ De  Summo  Bono, 
Libri  III.,”  fob,  1483,  lit.  Goth.  No 
doubt,  there  are  many  words  in  Isidore 
of  Seville,  that  are  not  of  classical  au- 
thority, some  of  which  he  marks  as 
such,  and  others  not ; but,  on  the  whole, 
his  Latinity  is  respectable.  Among 
the  corrupt  words  he  uses  are  a few 


that  are  curious,  because  they  have 
descended  into  the  modern  Castilian  ; 
such  as,  “ astrosus,  ab  astro  dictus, 
quasi  malo  sidere  natus,”  (Etymol., 
1483,  fol.  50.  a,)  which  appears  in  the 
present  astroso,  the  familiar  term  for 
unhappy,  disastrous,  and  permitted  by 
the  Spanish  Academy  ; — cortina,  of 
which  Isidore  says,  “ Cortinae  sunt  au- 
leea,  id  est,  vela  de  pellibus,  qualia  in 
Exodo  leguntur,”  (Etym.,  f.  97.  b,) 
which  appears  in  the  modern  Spanish 
cortina,  for  curtain  ; — “ camisias  voca- 
mus,  quod  in  hisdormimus  in  camis,” 
(Etym.,  f.  96.  b,)  which  last  word,  cama, 
is  explained  afterwards  to  be  “ lectus 
brevis  et  circa terram,”  (Etym.,f.  101. 
a,)  and  both  of  which  are  now  Span- 
ish, camisa  being  the  proper  word  for 
shirt,  and  cama  for  bed  ; — mantum 
Hispani  vocant  quod  manus  tegat  tan- 
tum,  est  enim  brevis  amictus,”  ( Etym. , 
f.  97.  a,)  which  is  the  Spanish  manto; 
— and  so  on  with  a few  others.  They 
are,  however,  only  curious  as  corrupt- 
ed Latin  words,  which  happened  to  con- 
tinue in  use,  till  the  modern  Spanish 
arose  several  centuries  later. 


368 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


came,  to  those  out  of  it,  an  almost  unintelligible  jargon  ; and 
the  offices  of  the  Church,  as  they  were  read  at  mass  and  on 
feast  days,  could  no  longer  be  understood  by  the  body  of 
the  worshippers.  This  was  the  result,  partly  of  the  decay  of 
all  the  Roman  institutions,  and,  indeed,  of  all  the  principles 
on  which  those  institutions  had  rested,  and  partly  of  the  inva- 
sion and  conquest  of  the  country  by  the  Northern  barbarians, 
whose  in-uption,  with  the  violences  that  followed  it,  left  for  a 
long  time  neither  the  quietness  nor  the  sense  of  security  ne- 
cessary even  to  the  humblest  intellectual  culture.®® 

This  great  irruption  of  the  Northern  barbarians  effected 
another  and  most  important  revolution  in  the  language  of  the 
Peninsula.  It  in  fact  gave  to  it  a new  character.  For  the 
race  of  men  by  whom  it  was  made  was  entirely  different, 
both  in  its  origin,  its  language,  and,  indeed,  in  all  that  goes 
to  make  up  national  character,  from  the  four  races  that  had 
previously  occupied  the  country.  The  new  invaders  belonged 
to  those  vast  multitudes  beyond  the  Rhine,  who  had  been 
much  known  to  the  Romans  from  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar, 
and  who,  at  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  had  been,  for  above 
a century,  leaning  with  a portentous  weight  upon  the  failing 
barriers,  which,  on  the  banks  of  that  glorious  stream,  had  long 
marked  the  limits  of  Roman  power.  Urged  forward,  not  only 
by  the  natural  disposition  of  Northern  nations  to  come  into  a 
milder  climate,  and  of  barbarous  nations  to  obtain  the  spoils 
of  civilization,  but  by  uneasy  movements  among  the  Tartars 
of  Upper  Asia,  which  were  communicated  through  the  Scla- 
vonic tribes  to  those  of  Germany,  their  accumulated  masses 
burst,  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  with  an  irresistible 
impulse,  on  the  wide  and  ill-defended  borders  of  the  Empire. 
Without  noticing  the  tumultuous  attempts  that  preceded  this 
final  and  fatal  invasion  and  were  either  defeated  or  turned 
aside,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  the  first  hordes  of  the  irruption 
which  succeeded  in  overthrowing  the  empire  of  the  world  be- 
gan to  pass  the  Rhine  at  the  end  of  the  year  406,  and  in  the 

26  See  Eichhom’s  Cultur,  Band  II.  and  VI. ; and  Castro,  Bib.  Esp.,  Tom. 
pp.  472,  etc. ; — ■ or,  for  more  ample  II. 
accounts,  Antonio,  Bib.  Vet.,  Lib.  V. 


App.  A ] ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE.  369 

beginning  of  407.  These  hordes,  however,  were  pressed  for^ 
ward,  it  may  be  said  almost  without  a figure,  by  the  merely 
physical  weight  of  the  large  bodies  that  followed  them.  Tribe 
succeeded  tribe,  with  all  the  facility  and  haste  of  a nomadic 
fife,  which  knows  neither  local  attachments  nor  local  interests, 
and  with  all  the  eagerness  and  violence  of  barbarians  seeking 
the  grosser  luxuries  of  civilization ; so  that  when,  at  the  end 
of  that  century,  the  last  of  the  greater  warldce  emigrations  had 
forced  for  itself  a place  witliin  the  limits  of  the  Roman  em- 
pire, it  may  be  truly  said,  that,  from  the  Rhine  and  the  British 
Channel  on  the  one  side,  to  Calabria  and  Gibraltar  on  the 
other,  there  was  hardly  a spot  of  that  empire  over  which  they 
had  not  passed,  and  few  where  they  were  not  then  to  be 
found  possessors  of  the  soil,  and  masters  of  the  political  and 
military  power.^^ 

In  the  particular  character  of  the  multitudes  that  finally  es- 
tablished themselves  within  its  territory,  Spain  w^as  certainly 
less  unfortunate  than  were  most  of  the  countries  of  Europe, 
that  were  in  a similar  manner  invaded.  The  first  tribes  that 
rushed  over  the  Pyrenees  — the  Franks,  who  came  before  the 
general  invasion,  and  the  Vandafi,  the  Alani,  and  the  Suevi,. 
who,  as  far  as  Spain  was  concerned,  formed  its  vanguard  — 
committed,  no  doubt,  atrocious  excesses,  and  produced  a state 
of  cruel  suffering,  wliich  is  eloquently  and  indignantly  describ- 
ed in  a well-known  passage  of  Mariana ; but,  after  a com- 
paratively short  period,  these  tribes  or  nations  passed  over  into 
Africa  and  never  returned.  The  Goths,  who  succeeded  them 
as  invaders,  were,  it  is  true,  barbarians,  like  their  predecessors, 
but  they  were  barbarians  of  a milder  and  more  generous  type. 
They  had  already  been  in  Italy,  where  they  had  become  some- 
what acquainted  with  the  Roman  laws,  manners,  and  lan- 
guage ; and  when,  in  411,  they  traversed  the  South  of  France 
and  entered  the  Peninsula,  they  were  received  rather  as  friends 
than  as  conquerors.^®  Indeed,  at  first,  their  authority  was  ex- 
ercised in  the  name  and  on  behalf  of  the  Empire ; but,  before 
the  century  was  ended,  the  last  Emperor  of  the  West  had 

27  Gibbon,  Chap.  XXX.  29  Mariana,  Lib.  V.  c.  8. 

28  Lib.  V.  c.  I. 


VOL.  III. 


47 


370  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [App.  A. 

ceased  to  reign ; and,  by  a sort  of  inevitable  necessity,  the 
Visigoth  dynasty  was  established  throughout  nearly  the  whole 
of  Spain,  and  acknowledged  by  Odoacer,  the  earliest  of  the 
barbarian  kings  of  Italy. 

Previously,  however,  to  the  entrance  of  the  Visigoths  into 
Spain,  they  had  been  converted  to  Christianity  by  the  vener- 
able Ulfilas ; and,  as  early  as  466  - 484,  in  a period  of  great 
confusion,  they  had  formed  for  themselves  a criminal  code  of 
laws,  to  which,  in  506,  they  added  a civil  code, — the  two  being 
subsequently  made  to  constitute  the  basis  of  that  important 
body  of  laws  which,  above  a century  later,  was  compiled  by 
the  fourth  Council  of  Toledo.^“  But,  though  the  Visigoths 
had  thus  adopted  some  of  the  most  important  means  of  civili- 
zation, their  language,  like  that  of  the  rest  of  the  Northern 
invaders,  remained  essentially  barbarous.  It  was  never,  at 
any  time,  in  Spain,  a written  language.  It  was  of  the  Teu- 
tonic stock,  and  had  nothing,  or  almost  nothing,  in  common 
with  the  Latin.  Still,  the  people  who  spoke  it  were  so  inti- 
mately mingled  with  the  conquered  people,  and  each,  from  its 
position,  had  become  so  dependent  on  the  other,  that  it  was 
no  longer  a question  whether  they  should  find  some  medium 
of  communication  suited  to  the  daily  and  hourly  intercourse 
of  common  life.  They  were,  in  fact,  compelled  to  do  so.  The 
same  consequences,  therefore,  followed,  that  followed  in  the 
other  Roman  or  Romanized  countries  which  were  invaded  in 
the  same  way.  A union  of  the  two  languages  took  place ; 
but  not  a union  on  equal  terms.  This  was  impossible.  For 
on  the  side  of  the  Latin  were  not  only  the  existing,  though 
decayed,  institutions  of  the  country,  but  whatever  of  civiliza- 
tion and  refinement  was  still  to  be  found  in  the  world,  as  well 
as  the  vast  and  growing  power  of  the  Christian  religion,  with 
its  organized  priesthood,  which  refused  to  be  heard  in  any  other 
language.  So  that,  if  the  Goths,  on  their  part,  had  the  polit- 
ical and  military  authority,  and  even  a more  fresh  and  vigor- 
ous intellectual  character,  they  were  obliged,  on  the  whole,  to 
submit  to  such  prevalent  influences,  and  to  adopt,  in  a great 


30  Gibbon,  Chap.  XXXYII. ; an  ar-  XXXI.,  on  the  Gothic  Laws  of  Spain; 
tide  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  Vol.  and  Depping,  Tom.  II.  pp.  217,  etc. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


371 


degree,  the  language  through  which  alone  they  could  obtain 
the  benefits  of  a more  advanced  state  of  society.  The  Latin, 
therefore,  comipted  and  degraded  as  it  was,  remained  in 
Spain,  as  it  did  in  the  other  countries  where  similar  races  of 
men  came  togethei*,  by  far  the  most  prominent  element  in  the 
language  that  grew  out  of  their  union,  and  was  thus  made  to 
constitute  the  gi-and  basis  of  the  modern  Spanish. 

The  most  considerable  change  effected  by  the  invaders  in 
the  language  they  found  established  in  Spain  was  a change 
in  its  grammatical  structure.  The  Goths,  like  any  uncivilized 
people,  could  learn  the  individual  words  of  the  more  culti- 
vated language  they  every  day  heard,  easier  than  they  could 
comprehend  the  philosophical  spirit  of  its  grammar.  While, 
therefore,  they  freely  adopted  the  large  and  convenient  vo- 
cabulary of  the  Latin,  they  compelled  its  complicated  forms 
and  constructions  to  yield  to  the  simpler  constructions  and 
habits  of  their  own  native  dialects.  This  may  be  illustrated 
by  the  striking  changes  they  wrought  in  the  established  in- 
flections of  the  Latin  nouns  and  verbs.  The  Romans,  it  is 
well  known,  had  strict  declensions  to  mark  the  relations  of 
their  nouns,  and  strict  conjugations  by  which  they  distin- 
guished the  times  of  their  verbs.  The  Goths  had  neither, 
but  used  articles  united  with  prepositions  to  mark  the  cases 
of  their  nouns,  and  auxiliaries  of  different  Idnds  to  mark  the 
changes  in  the  meanings  of  their  verbs.^^ 

When,  therefore,  in  Spain,  they  received  the  Latin,  where 
no  article  existed,  they  compelled  ille,  as  the  nearest  word 
they  could  find,  to  serve  for  their  definite  article,  and  umis  for 
their  indefinite,  — so  that,  in  their  oldest  deeds  and  other 
documents,  we  find  such  phrases  as  ille  homo,  the  man  ; vnus 
homo,  a man ; ilia  mulier,  the  woman ; and  so  on,  — from 

31  In  the  earliest  Gothic  that  re-  to  suppose  that  the  articles  of  both 
mains  to  us,  (the  Gospels  of  Ulfilas,  sorts  were  not  used  b)'^  the  Goths,  as 
circa  A.  D.  370,)  there  is  no  indefinite  well  as  by  the  other  Northern  tribes, 
article  ; and  the  definite  does  not  al-  in  the  fifth  century,  as  they  have  been 
ways  occur  where  it  is  used  in  the  ever  since.  See  Ulfilas,  Gothische  Bi- 
original Greek,  from  which,  it  is  wor-  beliibersetzung,  ed.  Zahn,  1805,  4to, 
thy  of  notice,  the  venerable  Bishop  and,  especially,  Einleitung,  pp.  28- 
made  his  version,  and  not  from  the  37. 

Latin.  But  there  is  no  reason,  I think. 


372  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [App.  A. 

which  the  modern  Spanish  derives  its  articles  el  and  to,  uno, 
una,  etc.,  just  as  the  French,  by  a similar  process,  obtained  the 
articles  le  and  to,  un  and  une,  and  the  Italians  il  and  la,  uno 
and  una.^^  The  same  sort  of  compromise  took  place  in  re- 
lation to  the  verbs.  Instead  of  vici,  I have  conquered,  they 
said  habeo  victus  ; instead  of  saying  amor,  I am  loved,  they 
said  sum  amatus;  and  fi’om  such  a use  of  habere  and  esse,  they 
introduced  into  the  modern  Spanish  the  auxiliaries  haber  and 
ser,  as  the  Italians  introduced  avere  and  essere,  and  the  French 
avoir  and  HreP  Tliis  example  of  the  effect  produced  by  the 
Goths  on  the  nouns  and  verbs  of  the  Latin  is  but  a specimen 
of  the  changes  they  brought  about  in  the  general  structure  of 
that  language,  by  which  they  contributed  their  full  share  to- 
wards stiff  fm-ther  corrupting  it,  as  well  as  towards  modelling 
it  into  the  present  Spanish ; — a great  revolution,  wliich  it 
required  above  seven  centuries  fairly  to  accomplish,  and  two 
or  tlu-ee  centuries  more  entirely  to  cany  out  into  all  its  final 
results.^^ 

But,  in  the  mean  time,  another  tremendous  invasion  had 
biust  upon  Spain ; violent,  unforeseen,  and  for  a time  threat- 
ening to  sweep  away  all  the  civilization  and  refinement,  that 
had  been  preserved  from  the  old  institutions  of  the  country, 
or  were  springing  up  under  the  new.  This  was  the  remarka- 
ble invasion  of  the  Arabs,  which  compels  us  now  to  seek 
some  of  the  materials  of  the  Spanish  character,  language,  and 


32  Raynouard,Ttoubadours,  Tom.  I. 
pp.  39,  43,  48,  etc.,  and  Diez,  Gram- 
matik  der  Romanischen  Sprachen, 
1838,  8vo,  Band  II.  pp.  13,  14,  98- 
100,  144,  145. 

33  Raynouard,  Troubadours,  Tom. 
I.  pp.  76-85.  - 

3^  See,  on  the  whole  of  this  subject, 
— the  formation  of  the  modern  dialects 
of  the  South  of  Europe,  — the  excel- 
lent “ Grammatik  der  Romanischen 
Sprachen  von  Fried.  Diez,”  Bonn,  1836 
-38,  2 vols.  8vo.  For  examples  of 
corruptions  of  the  Spanish  language, 
such  as  are  above  referred  to,  take  the 
following  : — Prates,  orate  pro  nos,  in- 
stead of  Fratres,  orate  pro  nobis ; — Se- 


deat  segregatus  a corpus  et  sanguis 
Domini,  instead  of  corpora  ct  sanguine. 
(Marina,  Ensayo,  p.  22,  note,  in  Me- 
morias  de  la  Academia  de  la  Hist., 
Tom.  IV.)  The  changes  in  spelling 
are  innumerable,  but  are  less  to  be 
trusted  as  proofs  of  change  in  the  lan- 
guage, because  they  may  have  arisen 
from  the  carelessness  or  ignorance 
of  individual  copyists.  Specimens  of 
every  sort  of  them  may  be  found  in  the 
“ Coleccion  de  Cedulas,”  etc.,  referred 
to  in  Vol.  I.  p.  47,  note,  and  in  the 
“ Coleccion  de  Fueros  Municipales,” 
by  Don  Tomas  Munoz  y Romero,  Ma- 
drid, 1847,  fob,  Tom.  I. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


373 


literature  in  the  heart  of  Asia,  as  we  have  already  been  obliged 
to  seek  for  some  of  them  in  the  exti'eme  North  of  Em'ope. 

The  Arabs,  who,  at  every  period  of  their  history,  have  been 
a pictm'esque  and  extraordinary  people,  received,  from  the 
passionate  religion  given  to  them  by  the  genius  and  fanati- 
cism of  Mohammed,  an  impulse  that,  in  most  respects,  is  un- 
paralleled. As  late  as  the  year  of  Chi’ist  623,  the  fortunes 
and  the  fate  of  the  Prophet  were  stiU  uncertain,  even  wthin 
the  naiTOw  limits  of  his  own  wild  and  wandering  tribe ; yet, 
in  less  than  a century  from  that  time,  not  only  Persia,  Syria, 
and  nearly  the  whole  of  Western  Asia,  but  Egypt  and  all  the 
North  of  Africa  had  yielded  to  the  power  of  his  military  faith. 
A success  so  wide  and  so  rapid,  founded  on  religious  enthu- 
siasm, and  so  speedily  followed  by  the  refinements  of  civiliza- 
tion, is  unlike  any  flung  else  in  the  history  of  the  woiid.^^ 

Wlien  the  Arabs  had  obtained  a tolerably  quiet  possession 
of  the  cities  and  coasts  of  Africa,  it  was  natural  they  should 
tmri  next  to  Spain,  from  which  they  were  separated  only  by 
the  straits  of  the  Mediteiranean.  Their  descent  was  made,  in 
great  force,  near  Gibraltar,  in  711 ; the  battle  of  the  Guada- 
lete,  as  it  is  called  by  the  Moorish  uuiters,  and  of  Xerez,  as  it 
is  called  by  the  Christians,  followed  immediately ; and,  in  the 
coiuse  of  tln-ee  years,  they  had,  with  their  accustomed  celerity, 
conquered  the  whole  of  Spain,  except  the  fated  region  of  the 
Northwest,  behind  whose  mountains  a large  body  of  Cliris- 
tians,  under  Pelayo,  retreated,  leaving  the  rest  of  their  coun- 
try in  the  hands  of  the  conquerors. 

But  while  the  Cluistians,  who  had  escaped  from  the  wreck 
of  the  Gotliic  power,  were  thus  either  shut  up  in  the  moun- 
tains of  Biscay  and  Astmias,  or  engaged  in  that  desperate 
struggle  of  nearly  eight  centmies,  which  ended  in  the  final 
expulsion  of  their  invaders,  the  Moors  throughout  the  centre 
and  especially  tluoughout  the  South  of  Spain  were  enjoying 

35  See  some  striking  remarks  on  36  They  were  so  called  from  their 
the  adventures  of  Mohammed , in  Prof.  African  abode,  Mauritania,  where  they 
Smyth's  genial  Lectures  on  Modem  naturally  inherited  the  name  of  the 
History,  Vol.  I.  pp.  66,  67,  8vo,  ancient  Mauri 
London,  1840. 

FF 


374 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


an  empire  as  splendid  and  intellectual  as  the  elements  of  their 
religion  and  civilization  would  permit. 

Much  has  been  said  concerning  the  glory  of  this  empire, 
and  the  effect  it  has  produced  on  the  literature  and  manners 
of  modern  times.  Long  ago,  a disposition  was  shown  by 
Huet  and  Massieu  to  trace  to  them  the  origin  both  of 
rhyme  and  of  romantic  fiction;  but  both  are  now  generally 
admitted  to  have  been,  as  it  were,  spontaneous  productions 
of  the  human  mind,  which  different  nations  at  different  pe- 
riods have  invented  separately  for  themselves.^’^  Somewhat 
later.  Father  Andres,  a learned  Spaniard,  who  wrote  in  Italy 
and  in  Italian,  anxious  to  give  to  his  own  country  the  honor 
of  imparting  to  the  rest  of  Europe  the  first  impulse  to  refine- 
ment after  the  faU  of  the  Roman  empire,  conceived  the  the- 
ory, at  once  broader  and  more  definite  than  that  of  Huet,  that 
the  poetiy  and  cultivation  of  the  Troubadours  of  Provence, 
which  are  generally  admitted  to  be  the  oldest  of  Southern 
Em'ope  in  modern  times,  were  derived  entirely  and  immedi- 
ately from  the  Arabs  of  Spain ; a theory  winch  has  been 
adopted  by  Ginguene,  by  Sismondi,  and  by  the  authors  of  the 
“ Literary  History  of  France.”  But  they  aU  go  upon  the 
presumption  that  rhyme  and  metrical  composition,  as  well  as 
a poetic  spirit,  were  awakened  later  in  Provence  than  subse- 
quent inquiries  show  them  to  have  been.  For  Father  Andres 
and  his  followers  date  the  communication  of  the  Arabian  in- 
fluences of  Spain  upon  the  South  of  France  from  the  cap- 


See  Huet,  “Origine  des  Romans,” 
(ed.  1693,  p.  24,)  but  especially  War- 
ton,  in  his  first  Dissertation,  for  the 
Oriental  and  Arabic  origin  of  roman- 
tic fiction.  The  notes  to  the  octavo 
edition,  by  Price,  add  much  to  the 
value  of  the  discussions  on  these  ques- 
tions. Warton’s  Eng.  Poetry,  1824, 
8vo,  Vol.  I.  Massieu  (Hist,  de  la 
Poesie  Francoise,  1739,  p.  82)  and 
Quadrio  (Storiad’  Ogni  Poesia,  1749, 
Tom.  IV.  pp.  299,  300)  follow  Huet, 
but  do  it  with  little  skill. 

38  The  opinion  of  Father  Andres 
is  boldly  stated  by  him  in  the  fol- 
lowing words ; “ Quest’  uso  degli 
Spagnuoli  di  verseggiare  nella  lingua. 


nella  misura,  e nella  rima  degli  Arabi, 
puo  dirsi  con  fondamento  la  prima 
origine  della  moderna  poesia.”  (Sto- 
ria  d’  Ogni  Lett.,  Lib.  I.  c.  11,  ^ 161 ; 
also  pp.  163-272,  ed.  1808,  4to.) 
The  same  theory  will  be  found  yet 
more  strongly  expressed  by  Ginguene 
(Hist.  Litt.  d’ltalie,  1811,  Tom.  I. 
pp.  187-285)  ; by  Sismondi  (Litt.  du 
Midi,  1813,  Tom.  I.  pp.  38-116; 
and  Hist,  des  Francais,  8vo,  Tom. 
IV.,  1824,  pp.  482-494)  ; and  in  the 
Hist.  Litt.  de  la  France  (4to,  1814, 
Tom.  XIH.  pp.  42,  43).  But  these 
last  authors  have  added  little  to  the 
authority  of  Andres's  opinion,  the  very 
last  being,  I think,  Ginguene. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


375 


ture  of  Toledo  in  1085,  when,  no  doubt,  there  was  a great 
increase  of  intercourse  between  the  two  countries.^®  But  Ray- 
nouard^®  has  since  published  the  fragment  of  a poem,  the 
manuscript  of  wliich  can  hardly  be  dated  so  late  as  the  year 
1000,  and  has  thus  shown  that  the  Provencal  literature  is  to 
be  carried  back  above  a century  earlier,  and  traced  to  the  pe- 
riod of  the  gradual  coiTuption  of  the  Latin,  and  the  gradual 
formation  of  the  modern  language.  The  elder  Schlegel,  too, 
has  entered  into  the  discussion  of  the  theory  itself,  and  left 
little  reason  to  doubt  that  Raynouard’s  positions  on  the  sub- 
ject are  well  founded.'^! 

But,  though  we  cannot,  with  Father  Andres  and  his  fol- 
lowers, trace  the  poetry  and  refinement  of  aU  the  South  of 
Europe  in  modern  times  primarily  or  mainly  to  the  Arabs  of 
Spain,  we  must  stiU,  so  far  as  the  Spanish  language  and  lit- 
erature are  concerned,  trace  something  to  them.  For  their 
progress  in  refinement  was  hardly  less  brilliant  and  rapid  than 
their  progress  in  empire.  The  reigns  of  the  two  Abderrah- 
mans,  and  the  period  of  the  glory  of  Cordova,  which  began 
about  750  and  continued  almost  to  the  time  of  its  conquest  by 
the  Christians  in  1236,  were  more  intellectual  than  could  then 
be  found  elsewhere ; and  if  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  which 
ended  in  1492,  was  less  refined,  it  was,  perhaps,  even  more 
splendid  and  luxurious.^-  The  public  schools  and  libraries 
of  the  Spanish  Arabs  were  resorted  to,  not  only  by  those  of 
their  own  faith  at  home  and  in  the  East,  but  by  Christians 
from  different  parts  of  Europe ; and  Pope  Sylvester  the  Sec- 


39  Andres,  Storia,  Tom.  I.  p.  273. 
Ginguene,  Tom.  I.  pp.  248-250, 
who  says  : “ C’est  a,  cette  epoque 
(1085)  que  remontent  peut-etre  les 
premiers  essais  poetiques  de  I’Es- 
pagne,  et  que  remontent  surenient  Ics 
premiers  chants  de  nos  Troubadours.''’ 

40  Fragment  d'un  Poeme  en  Vers 
Romans  sur  Boece,  publie  par  M. 
Raynonard,  etc.,  Paris,  8vo,  1817. 
Also  in  his  Poesies  des  Troubadours, 
Tom.  II.  Consult,  further,  Grammaire 
de  la  Langue  Romane,  in  the  same 
work,  Tom.  I. 

I refer  to  “ Observations  sur  la 


Langue  et  la  Litterature  Provengales, 
par  A.  W.  Schlegel,”  Paris,  1818, 
8vo,  not  published.  See,  especially, 
pp.  73,  etc.,  in  which  he  shows  how 
completely  anti-Arabic  are  the  whole 
tone  and  spirit  of  the  early  Provenqal, 
and  still  more  tho.se  of  the  early  Span- 
ish poetry.  And  see,  also,  Diez,  Poe- 
sie  der  Troubadours,  8vo,  1826,  pp. 
19,  etc. ; an  excellent  book. 

Conde,  Historia  de  la  Domina- 
cion  de  los  Arabes  en  Espaiia,  Madrid, 
1820-21,  4to,  Tom.  I.  and  II.,  but 
especially  Tom.  I.  pp.  158-226,  425 
- 489,  524  - 54’^ 


376 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


ond,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  his  age,  is  believed 
to  have  owed  his  elevation  to  the  pontificate  to  the  culture  he 
received  in  Seville  and  Cordova.'’^ 

In  the  midst  of  this  flourishing  empire  lived  large  masses 
of  native  Clu'istians,  who  had  not  retreated  with  their  hardy 
brethren  under  Pelayo  to  the  mountains  of  the  Northwest,  but 
dwelt  among  their  conquerors,  protected  by  the  wide  tolera- 
tion which  the  Mohammedan  religion  originally  prescribed 
and  practised.  Indeed,  except  that,  as  a vanquished  people, 
they  paid  double  the  tribute  paid  by  Moors,  and  that  they 
were  taxed  for  their  Church  property,  these  Christians  were 
little  burdened  or  restrained,  and  were  even  permitted  to  have 
their  bishops,  chm’ches,  and  monasteries,  and  to  be  judged  by 
their  own  laws  and  their  own  tribunals,  whenever  the  question 
at  issue  was  one  that  related  only  to  themselves,  unless  it 
involved  a capital  punishment.''^  But,  though  they  were  thus 
to  a certain  degree  preserved  as  a separate  people,  and  though, 
considering  their  peculiar  position,  they  maintained,  more 
than  would  be  readily  believed,  their  religious  loyalty,  stiU  the 


^ Sylvester  11.  (Gerbert)  was  Pope 
from  999  to  1003,  and  was  the  first 
head  France  gave  to  the  Church.  I 
am  aware  that  the  Benedictines  (Hist. 
Litt.  de  la  France,  Tom.  VI.  p.  560) 
intimate  that  he  did  not  pass,  in  Spain, 
beyond  Cordova,  and  I am  aware,  too, 
that  Andres  (Tom.  I.  pp.  175-178) 
is  unwilling  to  allow  him  to  have 
studied  at  any  schools  in  Seville  and 
Cordova  except  Christian  schools. 
But  there  is  no  pretence  that  the  Chris- 
tians had  important  schools  in  Anda- 
lusia at  that  time,  though  the  Arabs 
certainly  had  ; and  the  authorities 
on  which  Andres  relies  assume  that 
Gerbert  studied  with  the  Moors,  and 
prove  more,  therefore,  than  he  wishes 
to  be  proved.  Like  many  other  men 
skilled  in  the  sciences  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  Gerbert  was  considered 
a necromancer.  A good  account  of 
his  works  is  in  the  Hist.  Litt.  de  la 
France,  Tom.  VI.  pp.  559-614. 

^ The  condition  of  the  Christians 
under  the  Moorish  governments  of 
Spain  may  be  learned,  sufficiently  for 


our  purpose,  from  many  passages  in 
Conde,  e.  g.  Tom.  1.  pp.  39,  82,  etc. 
But  after  all,  perhaps,  the  reluctant  ad- 
missions of  Florez,  Risco,  etc.,  in  the 
course  of  the  forty-five  volumes  of  the 
“ Espafia  Sagrada,”  are  quite  as  good  a 
proof  of  the  tolerance  exercised  by  tbe 
Moors,  as  the  more  direct  statements 
taken  from  the  Arabian  writers.  See, 
for  Toledo,  Florez,  Tom.  V.  pp.  323 
-329;  for  Complutum  or  Alcala  de 
Henares,  Tom.  VTI.  p.  187 ; for  Se- 
ville, Tom.  IX.  p.  234 ; for  Cordova 
and  it's  martyrs,  Tom  X.  pp.  245- 
471  ; for  Saragossa,  Risco,  Tom. 
XXX.  p.  203,  and  Tom.  XXXI.  pp. 
112-117;  for  Leon,  Tom.  XXXIV. 
p.  132;  and  so  on.  Indeed,  there  is 
something  in  the  accounts  of  a great 
majority  of  the  churches,  whose  his- 
tory these  learned  men  have  given  in 
so  cumbrous  a manner,  that  shows  the 
Moors  to  have  practised  a toleration 
which,  muiatis  mutandis,  they  would 
have  been  grateful  to  have  found 
among  the  Christians  in  the  time  of 
Philip  HI. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


377 


influence  of  a powerful  and  splendid  empire,  and  of  a popula- 
tion every  way  more  prosperous  and  refined  than  themselves, 
was  constantly  pressing  upon  them.  The  inevitable  result 
was,  that,  in  the  course  of  ages,  they  gradually  yielded  some- 
thing of  their  national  character.  They  came,  at  last,  to  wear 
the  Moorish  dress ; they  adopted  Moorish  manners ; and  they 
served  in  the  Moorish  armies  and  in  the  places  of  honor  at  the 
courts  of  Cordova  and  Granada.  In  all  respects,  indeed,  they 
deserved  the  name  given  to  them,  that  of  Mozarabes  or  Mu- 
^arabes,  persons  who  seemed  to  become  Arabs  in  manners 
and  language ; for  they  were  so  mingled  with  tlieir  conquer- 
ors and  masters,  that,  in  process  of  time,  they  could  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  Arabs  amidst  whom  they  lived  by  little 
except  their  faith.^^ 

The  effect  of  all  this  on  whatever  of  the  language  and  liter- 
atm'e  of  Rome  still  survived  among  them  was,  of  com’se,  early 
apparent.  The  natives  of  the  soil  who  dwelt  among  the 
Moors  soon  neglected  their  degraded  Latin,  and  spoke  Ai’abic. 
In  794,  the  conquerors  thought  they  might  afieady  venture  to 
provide  schools  for  teaching  their  own  language  to  their  Chris- 


■^5  The  meanino;  of  the  word  Mozd- 
rabe  was  lono-  doubtful ; the  best  opin- 
ion being  that  it  was  derived  from 
Mixti-arabes,  and  meant  what  this 
Latin  phrase  would  imply.  (Covarru- 
bias,  Tesoro,  1674,  ad  verb.)  That 
this  was  the  common  meaning  given 
to  it  in  early  times  is  plain  from  the 
“ Chronica  de  Esparia,”  (Parte  II.,  at 
the  end,)  and  that  it  continued  to  be  so 
received  is  plain,  among  other  proofs, 
from  the  following  passage  in  “ Los 
Mu9arabes  de  Toledo,”  (a  play  in  the 
Comedias  Escogidas.Tom.  XXXVIII., 
1672,  p.  157,)  where  one  of  the  Mu- 
zarabes,  explaining  to  Alfonso  VII. 
who  and  what  they  are,  says,  just 
before  the  capture  of  the  city,  — 

Mu^arabes,  Rey,  nos  llamamos, 

Porque,  entre  Arabes  mezclados, 

Los  niandamienlos  sagrados 
De  nuestra  ley  verdadera, 

Con  valor  y fe  sincera 
Han  sido  siempre  guardados. 

Jornada  III. 

But,  amidst  the  other  rare  learning  of 
his  notes  on  “ The  Mohammedan  Dy- 
nasties of  Spain,”  (4to,  London,  1840, 

48 


Vol.  I.  pp.  419,420,)  Don  Pascual  de 
Gayangos  has  perhaps  settled  this 
vexed,  though  not  very  important,  ques- 
tion. Mozdrabc,  or  Muzdrabe,  as  he 
explains  it,  “ is  the  Arabic  Musta'rab, 
meaning  a man  who  tries  to  imitate 
or  to  become  an  Arab  in  his  manners 
and  language,  and  who,  though  he 
may  know  Arabic,  speaks  it  like  a 
foreigner.”  The  word  is  still  used 
in  relation  to  the  ritual  of  some  of  the 
churches  in  Toledo.  (Castro,  Biblio- 
teca,  Tom.  II.  p.  458,  and  Paleogra- 
phia  Esp.,  p.  16.)  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Moors  who,  as  the  Christian  con- 
quests were  advanced  towards  the 
South,  remained,  in  their  turn,  in- 
closed in  the  Christian  population  and 
spoke  or  assumed  its  language,  were 
originally  called  Moros  Laiinados.  See 
Poema  del  Cid,”  v.  266,  and  “ Crd- 
nica  General,”  (ed.  1604,  fol.  304.  a,) 
where,  respecting  Alfaraxi,  a Moor, 
afterwards  converted,  and  a counsellor 
of  the  Cid,  it  is  said  he  was  “ de  tan 
buen  entendimento,  e era  tan  ladino 
que  semejava  Christiano.” 


VOL.  III. 


FF* 


378 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


tian  subjects,  and  require  them  to  use  no  other."*®  A1  varus 
Cordubensis,  who  wTote  Ms  “ Indiculus  Luminosus”  in  854,"*'* 
and  who  is  a competent  witness  on  such  a subject,  shows  that 
they  had  succeeded ; for  he  complains  that,  in  his  time,  the 
Christians  neglected  their  Latin,  and  acquired  Arabic  to  such 
an  extent  that  hardly  one  Clnistian  in  a thousand  was  to  be 
found  who  could  wi'ite  a Latin  letter  to  a brother  in  the  faith, 
while  many  were  able  to  write  Arabic  poetiy  so  as  to  rival 
the  Moors  themselves.^®  Such,  indeed,  was  the  early  preva- 
lence of  the  Arabic,  that  John,  Bishop  of  Seville,  one  of  those 
venerable  men  who  commanded  the  respect  ahke  of  Christians 
and  Mohammedans,  found  it  necessary  to  translate  the  Scrip- 
tmres  into  it,  because  his  flock  could  read  them  in  no  other 
language."*®  Even  the  records  of  CM’istian  churches  were  often 
kept  in  Arabic  from  this  period  down  through  several  succeed- 
ing centuries,  and  in  the  archives  of  the  cathedral  at  Toledo, 
above  two  thousand  documents  were  recently  and  are  proba- 
bly still  to  be  seen,  written  cMefly  by  CMistians  and  ecclesias- 
tics, in  Ai’abic.®® 

Nor  was  this  state  of  tilings  at  once  changed  when  the 


46  Conde,  Tom.  I.  p.  229. 

47  Florez,  Espafia  Sagrada,  Tom. 
XI.  p.  42. 

48  The  “ Indiculus  Luminosus”  is 
a defence  of  the  fanatical  martyrs  of 
Cordova,  who  suffered  under  Abder- 
rahman  II.  and  his  son.  The  passage 
referred  to,  with  all  its  sins  against 
pure  Latinity  and  good  taste,  is  as 
follows: — “ Heu,  proh  dolor!  lin- 
guam  suam  nesciunt  Christian!,  et 
linguam  propriam  non  advertunt  Lati- 
ni,  ita  ut  omni  Christ!  collegio  vix  in- 
veniatur  unus  in  milleno  hominum 
numero,  qui  salutatorias  fatri  possit 
rationabiliter  dirigere  literas.  Et  re- 
peritur  absque  numero  multiplex  tur- 
ba,  qui  erudite  Caldaicas  verborum 
explicet  pompas.  Ita  ut  metrice  eru- 
ditiori  ab  ipsis  gentibus  carmine  et 
sublimiori  pulchritudine,”  etc.  It  is 
found  at  the  end  of  the  treatise,  which 
is  printed  entire  in  Florez  (Tom.  XI. 
pp.  221  - 275).  The  phrase  omni  Chris- 
ti  collegio  is,  I suppose,  understood 
by  Mabillon,  “ De  Re  Diplomatica,” 
(fol.,  1681,  Lib.  11.  c.  1,  p.  55,)  to  re- 


fer to  the  clergy,  in  which  case  the 
statement  would  be  much  stronger, 
and  signify  that  “ not  one  priest  in 
a thousand  could  address  a common 
letter  of  salutation  to  another  ” (Hal- 
1am,  Bliddle  Ages,  London,  8vo,  1819, 
Vol.  III.  p.  332) ; — but  I incline  to 
think  that  it  refers  to  the  whole  body 
of  Christians  in  and  about  Cordova. 

49  The  time  when  John  of  Seville 
lived  is  not  settled  (Florez,  Tom.  IX. 
pp.  242,  etc.)  ; but  that  is  not  impor- 
tant to  our  purpose.  The  fact  of  the 
translation  is  in  the  Cronica  General 
(Parte  III.  c.  2,  f.  9,  ed.  1604)  : 
“ Traslado  las  sanctas  Escripturas  en 
Aravigo  e fizo  las  exposiciones  dellas 
segun  conviene  a la  sancta  Escriptu- 
ra.”  And  Mariana  gives  the  true  rea- 
son for  it ; “A  causa  que  la  lengua 
Arabiga  se  usaba  mucho  entre  todos  ; 
la  Latina  ordinariamente  ni  se  usaba, 
ni  se  sabia.”  (Lib.  VII.  c.  iii.,  prope 
fincm.)  See,  also,  Antonio,  Bib.  Vet., 
Lib.  ^T.  c.  9 ; Castro,  Bib.  Esp., 
Tom.  II.  pp.  454,  etc. 

69  Paleographia  Espaiiola,  p.  22. 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


379 


Christians  from  the  North  prevailed  again;  for,  after  the  re- 
conquest of  some  of  the  central  portions  of  the  cormtiy,  the 
coins  sti'uck  by  Christian  kings  to  circulate  among  their 
Christian  subjects  were  covered  with  Arabic  inscriptions,  as 
may  be  seen  in  coins  of  Alfonso  the  Sixth  and  Alfonso  the 
Eighth,  in  the  years  1185,  1186,  1191,  1192,  1199,  and  1212.^^ 
And  in  1256  Alfonso  the  Wise,  when,  by  a solemn  decree 
dated  at  Burgos,  18th  December,  he  was  making  provision  for 
education  at  Seville,  established  Arabic  schools  there,  as  weU 
as  Latin.^^  Indeed,  stiU  later,  and  even  down  to  the  four- 
teenth centmy,  the  public  acts  and  monuments  of  that  part  of 
Spain  were  often  written  in  Arabic,  and  the  signatm-es  to 
important  ecclesiastical  documents,  though  the  body  of  the 
instrument  might  be  in  Latin  or  Spanish,  were  sometimes 
made  in  the  Arabic  character,  as  they  are  in  a grant  of  privi- 
leges by  Ferdinand  the  Fourth  to  the  monks  of  Saint  Clem- 
ent.^^  So  that  almost  as  late  as  the  period  of  the  conquest  of 
Granada,  and  in  some  respects  later,  it  is  plain  that  the  lan- 
guage, manners,  and  civilization  of  the  Arabs  were  stiU  much 
diffused  among  the  Christian  population  of  the  centre  and 
South  of  Spain. 

When,  therefore,  the  Christians  from  the  North,  after  a con- 
test the  most  bitter  and  protracted,  had  rescued  the  gi’eater 
part  of  their  country  from  thraldom,  and  driven  the  Moors  be- 
fore them  into  its  southwestern  provinces,  they  found  them- 
selves, as  they  advanced,  smTounded  by  large  masses  of  their 
ancient  countrymen,  Clu’istians,  indeed,  in  faith  and  feeling, 
though  most  imperfect  in  Christian  knowledge  and  morals, 
but  Moors  in  dress,  manners,  and  language.  A union,  of 
course,  took  place  between  these  different  bodies,  who,  by  the 
fortunes  of  war,  had  been  separated  from  each  other  so  long, 
that,  though  originally  of  the  same  stock  and  still  connected 
by  some  of  the  strongest  sympathies  of  our  nature,  they  had 
for  centuries  ceased  to  possess  a common  language  in  which 

51  Meraorias  de  la  Real  Acad,  de  la  Zuniga,  Anales  de  Sevilla,  fol.,  1677, 
Hist.,  Tom.  IV.,  Ensayo  de  Marina,  p.  79. 

pp.  40-43.  53  Mem.  de  la  Real  Acad,  de  la 

52  Mondejar,  Memorias  de  Alonso  Hist.,  Tom.  IV.,  Ensayo  de  Marina, 
el  Sabio,  fol.,  1777,  p.  43.  Ortiz  y p.  40. 


380 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


alone  it  would  be  possible  to  carry  on  the  daily  intercourse  of 
life.  But  such  a reunion  of  the  two  parts  of  the  nation, 
wherever  and  whenever  it  occurred,  necessarily  imphed  an 
immediate  modification  or  accommodation  of  the  lansruasre 
that  was  to  be  used  by  both.  No  doubt,  such  a modification 
of  the  Gothicized  and  corrupted  Latin  had  been  going  on,  in 
some  degree,  from  the  time  of  the  Moorish  conquest.  But 
now  it  was  indispensable  that  it  should  be  completed.  A 
considerable  infusion  of  the  Arabic,  therefore,  quickly  took 
place ; and  the  last  important  element  was  thus  added  to 
the  present  Spanish,  which  has  been  polished  and  refined,  in- 
deed, by  subsequent  centuries  of  progress  in  knowledge  and 
civilization,  but  is  still,  in  its  prominent  features,  the  same 
that  it  appeared  soon  after  what,  with  characteristic  nation- 
ahty,  is  called  the  Restoration  of  Spain.®® 

The  language,  however,  which  was  thus  brought  from  the 
North  by  the  Christian  conquerors,  and  became  modified  as  it 
advanced  among  the  Moorish  population  of  the  South,  was, 
as  we  have  seen,  by  no  means  the  classical  Latin.  It  was 
Latin  corrupted,  at  first,  by  the  causes  which  had  comipted 
that  language  throughout  the  Roman  empire,  even  before  the 
overthrow  of  the  Roman  power,  — then  by  the  inevitable 
effect  of  the  establishment  in  Spain  of  the  Goths  and  other 
barbarians  immediately  afterwards,  — and  subsequently  by 
additions  from  the  original  Iberian  or  Basque,  made  during 
the  residence  of  the  Christians,  after  the  Moorish  conquest, 
among  the  mountaineers,  mth  whom  that  language  had  never 
ceased  to  prevail.  But  the  principal  cause  of  the  final  degra- 
dation of  the  Latin  at  the  North,  after  the  middle  of  the  eighth 
century,  was,  no  doubt,  the  miserable  condition  of  the  people 

S'*  For  the  great  Arabic  infusion  in-  much  influence  to  the  Arabic,  may  be 
to  the  language  of  Spain,  see  Aldrete,  found  in  the  “ Ocios  de  Espanoles 
Origen,  Lib.  III.  c.  15;  Covarrubias,  Emigrados,”  Tom.  II.  p.  16,  and 
Tesoro,  passim;  and  the  catalogue,  of  Tom.  III.  p.  291. 

85  pages,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  The  common  and  characteristic 

Memorias  de  la  Academia  de  Historia.  phrase,  from  a very  early  period,  for 
To  these  may  be  well  added  the  very  the  Moorish  conquest  of  Spain,  was 
curious  “ Vestigios  da  Lingua  Arabica  “ la  pirdida  de  Espaiia,”  and  that  for 
em  Portugal  per  Jodo  de  Sousa,”  Lis-  its  reconquest,  “la  restauracion  de 
boa,  1789, 4to.  A general  notice  of  the  Espana.” 
whole  subject,  but  one  that  gives  too 


App.  a.]  origin  of  the  SPANISH  LANGUAGE.  381 

who  spoke  it.  They  had  fled  from  the  ruins  of  the  Latinized 
kingdom  of  the  Goths,  pursued  by  the  fiery  sword  of  the 
Moslem,  and  found  themselves  crowded  together  in  the  wild 
fastnesses  of  the  Biscayan  and  Asturian  mountains.  There, 
deprived  of  the  social  institutions  in  which  they  had  been  nur- 
tured, and  which,  however  impaired  or  ruined,  yet  represented 
and  retained  to  the  last  whatever  of  civilization  had  been  left 
in  their  unhappy  country;  mingled  with  a people  who,  down 
to  that  time,  appear  to  have  shaken  off  little  of  the  barbarism 
that  had  resisted  alike  the  invasion  of  the  Romans  and  of 
the  Goths ; and  pent  up,  in  great  numbers,  within  a terri- 
tory too  small,  too  rude,  and  too  poor  to  afford  them  the 
means  of  a tolerable  subsistence,  the  Christians  at  the  North 
seem  to  have  sunk  at  once  into  a state  nearly  approaching 
that  of  savage  life,  — a state,  of  com’se,  in  which  no  care  or 
thought  would  be  given  to  preserve  the  purity  of  the  language 
they  spoke.®®  Nor  was  their  condition  much  more  favorable 
for  such  pm'poses  when,  with  the  vigor  of  despair,  they  began 
to  recover  the  country  they  had  lost.  For  they  were  then 
constantly  in  arms  and  constantly  amidst  the  perils  and  suffer- 
ings of  an  exhausting  warfare,  embittered  and  exasperated  by 
intense  national  and  religious  hatreds.  When,  therefore,  as 
they  advanced  with  their  conquests  towards  the  south  and 
the  east,  they  found  themselves  coming  successively  in  con- 
tact with  those  portions  of  thek  race  that  had  remained  among 
the  Moors,  they  felt  that  they  were  at  once  in  the  presence  of 
a civilization  and  refinement  altogether  superior  to  their  own. 

The  result  was  inevitable.  The  change,  which,  as  has  been 
said,  now  took  place  in  their  language,  was  governed  by  this 
peculiar  circumstance  in  their  position.  For,  as  the  Goths, 
between  the  fifth  and  eighth  centuries,  received  a vast  number 
of  words  from  the  Latin  because  it  was  the  language  of  a 

56  The  Arabic  accounts,  which  are  despedezados  en  andrajos,”  etc.  (Con- 
much  to  be  relied  on,  because  they  are  de,  Dominacion,  etc..  Parte  II.  c.  18.) 
contemporary,  give  a shocking  picture  The  romantic  and  uncertain  accounts, 
of  the  Christians  at  the  North  in  the  in  the  beginning  of  the  third  part  of 
eighth  century.  “ Viven  como  fie-  the  Cronica  General,  and  the  more 
ras,  que  nunca  lavan  sus  cuerpos  ni  formal  narrative  of  Mariana,  (book 
vestidos,  que  no  se  las  mudan,  y los  seventh,)  leave  little  doubt  that  such 
llevan  puestas  hasta  que  se  les  caen  descriptions  must  be  near  the  truth. 


382 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  A. 


people  with  whom  they  were  intimately  mingled  and  who 
were  much  more  intellectual  and  advanced  than  themselves, 

A ' 

so  now,  for  the  same  reason,  the  whole  nation  received,  be- 
tween the  eighth  and  thirteenth  centuries,  another  increase  of 
their  vocabulary  from  the  Arabic,  and  accommodated  them- 
selves, in  a remarkable  degree,  to  the  advanced  cultivation  of 
their  Southern  countrymen  and  of  their  new  Moorish  subjects. 

At  what  precise  period  the  language,  since  called  the  Span- 
ish and  Castilian,  can  be  said  to  have  been  formed  by  this 
union  of  the  Gothicized  and  con-upted  Latin  that  came  from 
the  North  with  the  Arabic  of  the  South,  cannot  now  be  de- 
termined.^'^ Such  a union  was,  from  its  nature,  brought 
about  by  one  of  those  gradual  and  silent  changes  in  what 
belongs  essentially  to  the  character  of  a whole  people,  which 
can  leave  behind  them  no  formal  monuments  or  exact  records. 
But  the  learned  Marina,  who  may  perhaps  be  safely  trusted 
on  this  point,  asserts  that  no  document  in  the  Castilian  lan- 
guage, with  a date  anterior  to  the  year  1140,  exists,  or,  in  his 
opinion,  ever  did  exist.®®  Indeed  the  oldest  yet  cited  is  a 
confirmation  of  privileges  by  Alfonso  the  Seventh,  in  the  year 
1155,  to  the  city  of  Aviles  in  Asturias.®®  However  gradual. 


Consult  Marina,  Ensayo,  p.  19. 

Ibid.,  pp.  23,  24. 

59  The  Aviles  document  is  regarded 
by  all  who  have  noticed  it  as  of  great 
importance  for  the  earliest  history  of 
the  Castilian.  It  is  first  mentioned,  I 
believe,  by  Father  Risco,  in  his  “ His- 
toria  de  la  Ciudad  y Corte  de  Leon” 
(Madrid,  1793,  4to,  Tom.  I.  pp.  252, 
253);  and  next  by  Marina,  in  his 
“ Ensayo  ” (Memorias  de  la  Acad,  de 
Historia,  Tom.  IV.,  1805,  p.  33)  ; — 
both  competent  witnesses,  and  both 
entirely  satisfied  that  it  is  genuine. 
Risco,  however,  printed  no  part  of  it, 
and  Marina  published  only  a few 
extracts.  But  in  the  “ Revista  de 
Madrid,”  (Segunda  Epoca,  Tom.  VII. 
pp.  267-322,)  it  is  published  entire, 
as  part  of  an  interesting  discussion 
concerning  the  old  codes  of  the  coun- 
try, by  Don  Rafael  Gonzalez  Llanos,  a 
man  of  learning  and  a native  of  Aviles, 
who  seems  to  have  a strong  love  for 


the  place  of  his  birth  and  to  be  famil- 
iar with  its  antiquities. 

The  document  in  question  belongs 
to  the  class  of  instruments  sometimes 
called  “ Privilegios,”  and  sometimes 
“ Foros,”  or  “Fueros”  (see,  ante, 
Vol.  1.  p.  47,  note  28)  ; but  where, 
as  in  this  case,  the  authority  of  the 
instrument  is  restricted  to  a single 
town  or  city,  it  is  more  properly  called 
“Carta  Puebla,”  or  municipal  char- 
ter. This  Carta  Puebla  of  Aviles  con- 
tains a royal  grant  of  rights  and  immu- 
nities to  the  several  citizens,  as  well  as 
to  the  whole  municipality,  and  involves 
whatever  regarded  the  property,  busi- 
ness, and  franchises  of  all  whom  it  was 
intended  to  protect.  Charters,  which 
were  so  important  to  the  welfare  of  many 
persons,  but  which  still  rested  on  the 
arbitrary  authority  of  the  crown,  were, 
as  we  have  previously  said,  (Vol.  I. 
p.  47,  note  27,)  confirmed  by  succeed- 
ing sovereigns,  as  often  as  their  con- 


App.  a.] 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


383 


therefore,  and  indistinct  may  have  been  the  formation  and  first 
appearance  of  the  Castilian  as  the  spoken  language  of  modern 


firraation  could  conveniently  be  pro- 
cured by  the  communities  so  deeply 
interested  in  their  preservation. 

The  Carta  Puebla  of  Aviles  was 
originally  granted  by  Alfonso  VI., 
who  reigned  from  1073  to  1109.  It 
was,  no  doubt,  written  in  such  Latin 
as  was  then  used ; and  in  1274  it  was 
formally  made  known  to  Alfonso  the 
Wise,  that  it  had  been  burnt  during 
the  attack  on  that  city  by  his  son 
Sancho.  The  original,  therefore,  is 
lost,  and  we  know  how  it  was  lost. 

What  we  possess  is  the  translation 
of  this  Carta  Puebla,  made  when  it 
was  confirmed  hy  Alfonso  VII.,  A.  D. 
1155.  It  is  still  preserved  in  the  ar- 
chives of  the  city  of  Aviles,  on  the 
original  parchment,  consisting  of  two 
skins  sewed  together,  — the  two 
united  being  about  four  feet  and  eleven 
inches  long,  and  about  nineteen  inches 
wide.  It  bears  the  known  seal  of 
Alfonso  VII.,  and  the  original  signa- 
tures of  several  persons  who  were 
bound  to  sign  it  with  him,  and  sever- 
al subsequent  confirmations,  scattered 
over  five  centuries.  (See  Revista,  ut 
sup. , pp.  329,  330.)  So  that  in  all  re- 
spects, including  the  coarseness  of  the 
parchment,  the  handwriting,  and  the 
language,  it  announces  its  own  genu- 
ineness with  as  much  certainty  as  any 
document  of  its  age.  As  printed,  it 
fills  about  twelve  pages  in  octavo,  and 
enables  us  to  judge  somewhat  of  the 
state  of  the  Castilian  at  the  time  it 
was  written. 

After  a caption  or  enrolment  in  bad 
Latin,  it  opens  with  these  words  ; — 

“ Estos  sunt  los  foros  que  deu  el  rey 
D.  Alfonso  ad  Ahilies  cuando  la  po- 
blou  par  foro  Sancti  Eacundi  et  otorgo 

10  emperador.  Em  primo,  per  solar 
pinder,  I solido  a lo  reu  et  II  denarios 
a lo  saion,  e cada  ano  un  solido  en 
censo  per  lo  solar  : e qui  lo  vender,  de 
I solido  a lo  rai,  e quil  comparar  dara 

11  denarios  a lo  saion,”  etc.  p.  267. 

A part  of  one  of  its  important  regu- 
lations is  as  follows  : — “ Toth  homine 
qui  populador  for  ela  villa  del  rey,  de 
quant  aver  qui  ser  aver,  si  aver  como 
heredat,  de  fer  en  toth  suo  placer  de 


vender  o de  dar,  et  a quen  lo  donar 
que  sedeat  stabile  si  filio  non  aver,  et 
si  filio  aver  del,  delo  a mano  illo  quis 
quiser  e fur  placer,  que  non  deserede 
de  toto,  et  si  toto  lo  deseredar,  toto  lo 
perdan  aquellos  a quen  lo  der.”  Re- 
vista, p.  315. 

Its  concluding  provisions  are  in 
these  words  : — “ Duos  homines  cum 
armas  derumpent  casa,  et  de  rotura  de 
orta  serrada,  LX.  solidos  al  don  de  la 
‘orta,  el  medio  al  rei,  e medio  al  don 
dela.  — Homines  populatores  de  Abi- 
lies,  non  dent  portage  ni  rivage,  desde 
la  mar  ata  Leon.”  Ibid.,  p.  322. 

It  ends  with  bad  Latin,  denouncing 
excommunication  on  any  person  who 
shall  attempt  to  infringe  its  provisions, 
and  declaring  him  “cum  Datam  et 
Abiron  in  infernumdamnatus.”  Ibid., 
p.  329. 

By  the  general  consent  of  those 
who  have  examined  it,  this  Carta  Pue- 
bla of  Aviles  is  determined  to  be  the 
oldest  document  now  known  to  exist 
in  the  Castilian  or  vulgar  dialect  of 
the  period,  which  dialect,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  Don  Rafael  Gonzalez  Llanos, 
received  its  essential  character  as  early 
as  1200,  or  six  years  before  the  deci- 
sive battle  of  the  Navas  de  Tolosa,  (see, 
ante,  Vol.  I.  p.  9,  note,)  though  not  a 
few  documents,  after  that  date,  abound 
in  Latin  words  and  phrases.  Revista, 
ut  supra,  Tom.  VIII.  p.  197. 

I am  aware  that  two  documents  in 
the  Spanish  language,  claiming  to  be 
yet  older,  have  been  cited  by  Mr. 
Hallam,  in  a note  to  Part  II.  c.  9 of 
his  Middle  Ages,  London,  1819,  8vo, 
Vol.  III.  p.  554,  where  he  says  : “ The 
earliest  Spanish  that  I remember  to 
have  seen  is  an  instrument  in  Marte- 
ne.  Thesaurus  Anecdotorum,  Tom.  1. 
p.  263  ; the  date  of  which  is  1095. 
Persons  more  conversant  with  the 
antiquities  of  that  country  may  possi- 
bly go  farther  back.  Another  of  1101 
is  published  in  Marina's  Teoria  de  las 
Cortes,  Tom.  III.  p.  1.  It  is  in  a 
Vidimus  by  Peter  the  Cruel,  and  can- 
not, I presume,  have  been  a translation 
from  the  Latin.”  There  can  be  no 
higher  general  authority  than  Mr. 


384 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  a. 


Spain,  we  may  no  doubt  feel  sure,  that,  about  the  middle  of 
the  twelfth  century,  it  had  risen  to  the  dignity  of  being  a 
written  language,  and  had  begun  to  appear  in  the  important 
public  documents  of  the  time. 

From  this  period,  then,  we  are  to  recognize  the  existence  in 
Spain  of  a language  spreading  gradually  through  the  greater 
part  of  the  country,  different  from  the  pure  or  the  corrupted 
Latin,  and  still  more  different  from  the  Arabic,  yet  obviously 
formed  by  a union  of  both,  modified  by  the  analogies  and  spirit 
of  the  Gothic  constructions  and  dialects,  and  containing  some 
remains  of  the  vocabularies  of  the  Germanic  tribes,  of  the  Ibe- 
rians, the  Celts,  and  the  Phoenicians,  who,  at  different  periods, 
had  occupied  nearly  or  quite  the  whole  of  the  Peninsula. 
This  language  was  called  originally  the  Romance,  because  it 
was  so  much  formed  out  of  the  language  of  the  Romans ; just 
as  the  Cliristians,  in  the  northwestern  mountains,  were  called 
by  the  Arabs  Alromi,  because  they  were  imagined  to  be  de- 
scended from  the  Romans.®®  Later,  it  was  called  Spanish, 
from  the  name  taken  by  the  whole  people,  and  perhaps,  at 
last,  it  was  even  more  frequently  called  Castilian,  from  that 
portion  of  the  country,  whose  political  power  grew  to  be  so 
predominant,  as  to  give  its  dialect  a preponderance  over  aU 
the  other  dialects,  which,  like  the  Galician,  the  Catalonian, 


Hallam  for  any  historical  fact,  and  this 
statement  seems  to  carry  back  the  old- 
est authentic  date  for  the  Spanish  lan- 
guage sixty  years  earlier  than  I have 
ventured  to  carry  it.  But  I have  ex- 
amined carefully  both  of  the  documents 
to  which  Mr.  Hallam  refers,  and  am 
satisfied  they  are  of  later  date  than  the 
charter  of  Aviles.  That  in  Martene 
is  merely  an  anecdote  connected  with 
the  taking  of  “ the  city  of  Exea,” 
when  it  was  conquered,  as  this  story 
states,  by  Sancho  of  Aragon.  Its 
language  strongly  resembles  that  of 
the  “ Partidas,”  which  would  bring  it 
down  to  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century ; but  it  bears,  in  truth,  no 
date,  and  only  declares  at  the  end  that 
the  city  of  Exea  was  taken  on  the 
nones  of  April,  1095,  from  the  Moors. 
Of  course,  there  is  some  mistake  about 
the  whole  matter,  for  Sancho  of  Ara- 


gon, here  named  as  its  conqueror,  died 
June  4th,  1094,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Peter  I.,  and  the  person  who  wrote 
this  account,  which  seems  to  be,  after 
all,  only  an  extract  from  some  monk- 
ish chronicle,  did  not  live  near  enough 
to  that  date  to  know  so  notorious  a 
fact.  Moreover,  Exea  is  in  Aragon, 
where  it  is  not  probable  the  earliest 
Castilian  was  spoken  or  written. 
Thus  much  for  the  document  from 
Martene.  That  from  Marina’s  Teo- 
ria  is  of  a still  later  and  quite  certain 
date.  It  is  a charter  of  privileges 
granted  by  Alfonso  VI.  to  the  Mozara- 
bes  of  Toledo,  but  translated  in  1340, 
when  it  was  confirmed  by  Alfonso  XI. 
Indeed,  it  is  so  announced  by  Marina 
himself,  who  in  the  table  of  contents 
says  especially,  that  it  is  “translated 
into  Castilian.” 

60  Marina,  Ensayo,  p.  19. 


App.  a.]  origin  of  the  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


385 


and  the  Valencian,  were,  for  a longer  or  shorter  period,  written 
languages,  each  with  claims  to  a literature  of  its  own. 

The  proportion  of  materials  contributed  by  each  of  the  lan- 
guages that  enter  into  the  composition  of  the  Spanish  has 
never  been  accurately  settled,  though  enough  is  known  to  per- 
mit an  adjustment  of  their  general  relations  to  each  other. 
Sarmiento,  who  investigated  the  subject  with  some  care, 
thinks  that  six  tenths  of  the  present  Castilian  are  of  Latin 
origm ; one  tenth  Greek  and  ecclesiastical ; one  tenth  North- 
ern ; one  tenth  Arabic ; and  the  remaining  tenth  East  Indian 
and  American,  Gypsy,  modern  German,  French,  and  Italian. 
Probably  this  estimate  is  not  very  far  from  the  truth.  But 
Larramendi  and  Humboldt  leave  no  doubt  that  the  Basque 
should  be  added ; and,  while  Marina’s  inquiries  give  a smaller 
proportion  to  the  Arabic,  those  of  Gayangos  raise  it  to  an 
eighth.  The  main  point,  however,  is  one  concerning  which 
there  can  be  no  doubt; — the  broad  foundations  of  the  Cas- 
tUian  are  to  be  sought  in  the  Latin,  to  which,  in  fact,  we  are 
to  trace  nearly  or  quite  all  the  contributions  sometimes  attrib- 
uted to  the  Greek.®^ 


The  most  striking  proof,  perhaps, 
that  can  be  given  of  the  number  of 
Latin  words  and  constructions  retained 
in  the  modern  Spanish,  is  to  be  found 
in  the  many  pages  of  verse  and  prose 
that  have,  from  time  to  time,  been  so 
written  that  they  can  be  read  through- 
out either  as  Latin  or  as  Spanish. 
The  first  instance  of  this  sort  that  I 
know  of  is  by  Juan  Martinez  Siliceo, 
Archbishop  of  Toledo  and  preceptor 
to  Philip  II.,  who,  when  he  was  in 
Italy,  wrote  a short  prose  dissertation 
that  could  be  read  in  both  languages, 
in  order  to  prove  to  some  of  his  learned 
friends  in  that  country  that  the  Castil- 
ian of  Spain  was  nearer  to  the  Latin 
than  their  Italian  ; — a jeu-d' esprit, 
which  he  printed  in  his  treatise  on 
Arithmetic,  in  1511.  (Antonio,  Bib. 
Nov.,  Tom.  II.  p.  737.)  Other  exam- 
ples occur  afterwards.  One  may  be 
found  in  a Spanish  Grammar,  pub- 
lished at  Louvain  in  1555,  and  entitled 
“ Util  y Breve  Institution  para  apren- 
der  Lengua  Hespanola  ” ; a curious 
book,  which  treats  the  Castilian  as 

49 


only  one  of  several  languages  then 
spoken  in  the  Spanish  Peninsula,  and 
.says  of  it,  “no  es  otra  cosa  que 
Latin  corrupto,”  — adding  that  many 
letters  had  been  written  in  Spanish 
words  that  were  yet  Latin  letters,  one 
of  which  he  proceeds  to  give  in  proof. 
Other  examples  occur  in  a Dialogue 
by  Fern.  Perez  de  Oliva,  and  an 
Epistle  of  Ambrosio  Morales,  the 
historian,  printed  in  1585,  with  the 
works  of  the  first ; in  a Sonnet 
published  by  Rengifo,  in  his  “ Arte 
Poetica,”  in  1592;  and,  finally,  in  an 
excessively  rare  volume  of  te7'za  rima, 
by  Diego  de  Aguiar,  printed  in  162], 
and  entitled  “ Tercetos  en  Latin  con- 
"I'uo  y puro  Castellano,”  of  which  the 
following  is  a favorable  specimen  : — 

Scribo  historias,  graves,  generosoa 
Spiritus,  divines  Heroes  puros, 
Magnanimos,  insignes,  bellicosos; 

Canto  de  Marte,  defensores  duros 
Animosos  Leones,  excellentes, 

De  rara  industrii,  invictos,  grandes  muros, 

Vos  animas  illuslres,  prajeminentes 
tnvoco,  etc. 

Much  cannot  be  said  for  the  purity  of 


VOL.  III. 


GG 


386 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[ App.  A 


The  Spanish,  or  Castilian,  language  thus  formed  was  intro- 
dueed  into  general  use  sooner  and  more  easily  than,  perhaps, 
any  other  of  the  newly  created  languages,  which,  as  the  con- 
fusion of  the  IVIiddle  Ages  passed  off,  were  springing  up, 
throughout  the  South  of  Europe,  to  take  the  place  of  the  uni- 
versal language  of  the  Roman  world.  The  reasons  of  this 
were,  that  the  necessity  for  its  creation  and  employment  was 
more  urgent,  from  the  extraordinary  relations  between  the 
Moors,  the  Mu^arabes,  and  the  Christians ; that  the  reign  of 
Saint  Ferdinand,  at  least  as  late  as  the  captm'c  of  Seville  in 
1247,  was  a period,  if  not  of  quiet,  yet  of  prosperity  and  almost 
of  splendor;  and  that  the  Latin,  both  as  a written  and  a 
spoken  language,  had  become  so  much  degraded,  that  it  could 
offer  less  resistance  to  change  in  Spain  than  in  the  other  coun- 
tries where  a similar  revolution  was  in  progress.®^  We  must 
not  be  surprised,  therefore,  to  find,  not  only  specimens,  but 
even  considerable  monuments,  of  Spanish  literature  soon  after 
the  first  recognized  appearance  of  the  language  itself.  The 
narrative  poem  of  the  Cid,  for  instance,  cannot  be  dated  later 
than  the  year  1200 ; and  Berceo,  who  flourished  from  1220  to 
1240,  though  he  almost  apologizes  for  not  witing  in  Latin, 


either  the  Castilian  or  the  Latin  in 
verses  like  these ; but  they  leave  no 
doubt  of  the  near  relationship  of  the 
two.  For  the  proportions  of  all  the 
languages  that  enter  into  the  Spanish, 
see  Sarmiento.Memorias,  1775,  p.  107 ; 
— Larramendi,  Antiguedad  y Univer- 
salidad  del  Bascuence,  1728,  c.  xvi., 
apud  Vargas  y Ponce,  Disertacion, 
1793,  pp.  10-26;  — Rosseeuw  de  St. 
Hilaire,  Etudes  sur  I'Origine  de  la 
Langue  et  Romances  Espagnoles, 
These,  1838,  p.  11 ; — W.  von  Hum- 
boldt, Priifung,  already  cited ; — Ma- 
rina, Ensayo,  in  Mem.  de  la  Acad,  de 
Hist.,  Tom.  IV.,  1805;  — and  an 
article  in  the  British  and  Foreign  Re- 
view, No.  XV.,  1839. 

62  All  the  documents  containing  the 
privileges  granted  by  St.  Ferdinand  to 
Seville,  on  the  capture  of  the  city,  are 
in  the  vernacular  of  the  time,  the  Eo- 
mance.  Ortiz  y Zuniga,  Anales  de 
Sevilla,  fob,  1677,  p.  89. 


63  Qiiiero  fer  una  prosa  en  Roman  paladino^ 
En  qua)  suele  el  pueblo  fablar  a su  vecino, 
Car  non  so  tan  letrado  por  fer  otro  latino,  ctc. 

Vida  de  S.  Domingo  de  Silos,  Si.  2. 

Roman  paladino  means  the  “ plain 
Romance  language,”  paladino  being 
derived,  as  I think,  with  Sanchez,  from 
palam,  though  Sarmiento  (in  his 
manuscript  on  “ Amadis  de  Gaula,” 
referred  to,  Vol.  I.  p.  322,  note)  says, 
when  noticing  this  line ; “ Paladino 
es  de  palatino  y este  es  de  palacio.'' 
The  otro  latino  is,  of  course,  the  elder 
Latin,  however  corrupted.  Cervantes 
uses  the  word  ladino  to  mean  Spanish, 
(Don  Quixote,  Parte  1.  c.  41,  and  the 
note  of  Clemencin,)  and  Dante  (Par., 
HI.  63)  uses  it  once  to  mean  plain, 
easy;  both  curious  instances  of  an  in- 
direct meaning,  forced,  as  it  were, 
upon  a word.  Prosa  means,  I sup- 
pose, Biagioli  (Ad  Purgatorio, 

XXVI.  118)  says  : ‘•^Prosa  nelP  Italia- 
no  e nel  Provenzale  del  secolo  xiii. 


App.  A.] 


ORIGIM  OF  THE  SPANISH  LANGUAGE. 


387 


and  thus  shows  how  certainly  he  lived  in  the  debatable  period 
between  the  two  languages,  has  left  us  a large  mass  of  genu- 
ine Spanish,  or  Castilian,  verse.  But  it  is  a little  later,  and 
in  the  reign  of  Alfonso  the  Tenth,  from  1252  to  1282,  that  we 
are  to  consider  the  introduction  of  the  Spanish,  as  a written,  a 
settled,  and  a polite  language,  to  have  been  recognized  and 
completed.  By  his  order,  the  Bible  was  translated  into  it 
from  the  Vulgate ; he  required  all  eontracts  and  legal  instni- 
ments  to  be  written  in  it,  and  all  law  proceediirgs  to  be  held 
in  it ; arrd,  finally,  by  his  own  reiuarkable  code,  “ Las  Siete 
Partidas,”  he  at  once  laid  the  foundatioirs  for  the  exteirsion 
and  establishment  of  its  authority  as  far  as  the  Spairish  race 
and  power  should  prevail.®^  Froirr  this  period,  therefore,  we 
are  to  look  for  the  history  and  developmeirt  of  the  Spatrish 
language,  in  the  body  of  Spairish  literature. 


significa  precisamente  istoria  o narra- 
zione  in  verst.”  It  may  be  doubted 
whether  he  is  right  in  applying  this 
remark  to  the  passage  in  Dante,  but  it 
is  no  doubt  applicable  to  the  passage 
before  us  in  Berceo,  the  meaning  of 
which  both  Bouterwek  and  his  Spanish 
translators  have  mistaken.  (Bouter- 
wek, Trad.  Cortina,  etc.,  8vo,  Madrid, 
1829,  Tom.  I.  pp.  60  and  119.)  Ferdi- 
nand Wolf  (in  his  very  learned  work, 
“ Uber  die  Lais,  Sequenzen  und  Lei- 
che,”  Heidelberg,  1841,  8vo,  pp.  92 
and  304)  thinks  the  use  of  the  word 


prosa,  here  and  elsewhere  in  early 
Spanish  poetry,  had  some  reference  to 
the  well-known  use  of  the  same  word 
in  the  offices  of  the  Church.  (Du 
Cange,  Glossarium,  ad  verb.)  But  I 
think  the  early  Spanish  rhymers  took 
it  from  the  Provencal,  and  not  from  the 
ecclesiastical  Latin. 

S'*  Mondejar,  Memorias  del  Rey 
D.  Alonso  el  Sabio,  fob,  Madrid, 
1777,  pp.  450 - 452.  Mariana, Hist., 
Lib.  XIV.  c.  7,  and  Castro,  Bib., 
Tom.  1.  pp.  411,  etc. 


APPENDIX,  B. 


ON  THE  ROMANCEROS. 

(See  Vol.  I.  p.  128.) 

As  the  earhest  ballads  were  not  by  known  authors,  but  were 
gathered  at  different  tinies,  from  the  traditions  of  the  people, 
it  is  impossible  to  understand  their  history  without  under- 
standing something  of  the  history  of  the  BaUad-books  in 
which  they  are  found.  A sketch  of  such  a history  has  been 
written,  with  much  knowledge  of  the  subject,  by  Ferdinand 
Wolf,  and  is  found  in  the  “ Jahrbiicher  der  Literatur  ” (Band 
CXIV.,  Wien,  1846,  pp.  1-72).  I do  not  willingly  enter 
into  a discussion  so  peciiliarly  within  the  province  of  this 
distinguished  scholar ; but,  as  I possess,  or  have  seen,  several 
very  early  Ballad-books  which  he  does  not  mention,  and  am 
besides  unable  to  agree  with  him  as  to  which  is  the  oldest 
of  them  all,  and  therefore  the  most  important,  I wiU,  as 
briefly  as  I can,  give  my  views  of  this  obscure  branch  of 
bibliography ; confining  myself,  where  it  is  possible  to  do  so, 
to  what  has  not  before  been  published,  and  toucliing  the 
whole  matter  only  so  far  as  it  concerns  the  history  of  Spanish 
poetry. 

A considerable  number  of  ballads,  printed  on  one  or  more 
sheets,  in  black  letter,  for  popular  use,  may  still  be  found. 
Such  are  “ El  Conde  Alarcos  ” ; “ El  Moro  Calaynos  ” ; a col- 
lection of  twelve  separate  pieces,  and  a collection  of  fifty-nine, 
sold  at  Heber’s  sale ; with  others  noticed  by  Brunet,  under 
the  head  of  Romances  Separees,  in  his  article  “ Romanceros.” 


App.  B.] 


ON  THE  ROMANCEROS. 


389 


But  they  are  all  without  dates ; it  is  extremely  uncertain  when 
any  one  of  them  was  printed;  and  it  seems  to  me,  judging 
from  those  I have  seen,  to  be  more  probable,  that  they  were 
taken  from  collections  now  known  to  exist  or  to  have  existed, 
than  that  they  helped  to  make  up  those  collections,  — the 
oldest  of  wliich  claims  to  have  been  taken  from  the  memo- 
ries of  the  people,  and  from  imperfect  manuscript  copies  cir- 
culating only  for  popular  use. 

1.  The  fii-st  separate  coUeetion  of  ballads  ever  published 
was,  I think,  the  one  printed  at  Saragossa,  under  the  title  of 
“ Silva  de  Varios  Romances,”  by  Stevan  G.  de  Nagera,  in 
two  parts,  1550.  (See  Brunet,  Manuel  du  Libraire,  ed.  1843, 
art.  Silva.)  I have  seen  a copy  of  this  SUva  belonging,  in 
1838,  to  M.  Henri  Ternaux-Compans,  of  Paris.  In  a prefatory 
address  to  the  Fust  Part,  the  collector  says,  “ I have  taken  the 
trouble  in  ^this  Silva  to  bring  together  all  the  ballads  that  have 
come  to  my  knowledge” ; adding  afterwards,  “ It  may  be  that 
some,  though  very  few,  of  the  old  ballads  are  wanting,  which 
I have  not  inserted,  either  because  they  did  not  come  to  my 
knowledge,  or  because  I did  not  find  them  so  complete  and 
perfect  as  I wished.  Nor  do  I deny,  that,  in  some  of  those 
here  printed,  there  may  be  an  occasional  error ; but  this  is  to 
be  imputed  to  the  copies  from  which  I took  them,  which  were 
very  corrupt,  and  to  the  weakness  of  memory  of  some  persons, 
who  dictated  them  to  me,  and  who  could  not  recollect  them 
perfectly.  I did  all  I could  to  obtain  the  least  faulty  that  were 
to  be  had,  and  had  no  little  trouble  to  collect  and  amend  them, 
and  add  to  some  that  were  imperfect.  However,  I wished  they 
should  stand  in  some  order,  and  so  I placed,  first,  those  of  de- 
votion and  from  the  Holy  Scriptures;  next,  those  that  relate 
Castilian  stories ; next,  those  of  Troy ; and,  lastly,  those  that 
relate  to  affairs  of  love.”  After  these  ballads,  which  fill  one 
hundred  and  ninety-six  leaves,  he  gives  us  twenty-five  leaves 
of  canciones,  villancicos,  and  chistes,  or  jests,  among  which, 
at  folio  199,  is  the  well-known  witty  Dialogue  of  Castillejo 
and  his  Pen.  At  the  end  of  the  First  Part,  folio  221,  we  have 
the  following  Address  to  the  Reader,  in  which  the  collector 
has  evidently  changed  his  mind  about  having  obtained  all 

GG* 


390 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  B. 


but  a “ very  few  of  the  old  ballads  ” known  to  exist ; for  he 
now  says  : “ Some  of  my  friends,  as  they  knew  I was  printing 
this  ‘ Cancionero,’  brought  me  mamj  ballads,  in  order  that  I 
might  insert  them ; but  as  we  were  coming  to  the  end  of  the 
printing,  I chose  not  to  put  them  in,  since  they  would  inten’upt 
the  order  that  had  been  begun ; but  rather  to  make  another 
volume,  which  will  be  the  Second  Part  of  this  ‘ Silva  de  Va- 
rios  Romances,’  which  is  now  in  the  press.  Vale.” 

This  “ Segunda  Parte  ” was  published  in  the  same  year, 
1550,  and  consists  of  two  hundred  and  three  leaves  of  ballads, 
nineteen  leaves  of  chistes,  and  two  leaves  of  contents,  at  the 
end  of  which  the  “ Impresor”  says:  “ I did  not  wish  to  put 
into  this  part  any  more  of  those  short  chistes^  because,  if  God 
pleases,  they  will  be  put  into  the  Third  Part,  with  other  things 
agreeable  to  the  curious  reader.  Vale.”  I know  of  no  copy 
of  this  Third  Part ; but  it  is  possible  it  was  printed,  because,  in 
the  “ Silva  de  Varies  Romances,”  of  which  Wolf  and  Brunet 
mention  several  editions  between  1578  and  1673,  and  of 
which  I possess  that  of  1602,  the  title-page  declares  that  it 
contains  “ los  mejores  romances  de  los  ires  libros  de  la  Silva.” 

2.  The  first  two  parts,  however,  combined  into  one,  but 
omitting  the  chistes^  etc.,  soon  appeared  at  Antwerp,  printed 
by  Martin  Nucio,  a well-known  publisher,  with  considerable 
additions,  but  without  the  date  of  its  publication.  The  Preface 
is  in  nearly  the  same  words  with  that  of  the  Silva  of  Nagera, 
Parte  I. ; but,  when  it  announces  the  arrangement  of  the 
ballads,  it  changes  their  order,  and  puts  “ first,  those  that  speak 
of  France  and  the  Twelve  Peers ; then,  those  that  relate  Cas- 
tilian stories;  then,  those  of  Troy;  and,  lastly,  those  that  treat 
of  affairs  of  love.”  Some  of  the  ballads  of  the  Saragossa 
collection  are  omitted,  and  the  whole  is  called  “ Cancionero 
de  Romances.”  There  is  a copy  of  it  in  the  Bibliotheque  de 
1’ Arsenal  at  Paris;  and  that  it  is  subsequent  to  the  Saragossa 
Silva,  and  taken  from  it,  seems  certain,  because  one  viust  be 
taken  from  the  other,  and  the  note  at  the  end  of  the  Silva, 
Parte  I.,  shows  that  the  Saragossa  Silva  was  collected  and 
printed  at  different  times ; while  the  arrangement  of  the  bal- 
lads in  the  Cancionero  of  Antwerp  shows  that  they  were 


App.  B.] 


ON  THE  ROMANCEROS. 


391 


necessarily  all  present  to  the  editor  when  he  put  his  work 
tosether.  Besides,  how  should  Nucio  collect  ballads  from  the 
memories  of  the  people  around  him  at  Antwerp,  where  there 
were  few  Spaniards,  except  soldiers?  And  how  much  less 
valuable  would  be  any  collection  made  there  than  one  made 
in  Spain  ? 

3.  Again,  a “ Cancionero  de  Romances  ” occurs,  printed 
“ En  Envers  en  casa  de  Martin  Nucio,  MDL.,”  a copy  of 
which  is  in  the  Bibliotheque  de  1’ Arsenal  of  Paris.  It  has  the 
same  Pi-eface  with  the  one  last  mentioned,  from  which  it  dif- 
fers only  in  omitting  seven  of  its  ballads,  and  inserting  thirty- 
seven  others.  The  eiTors  noted  in  the  one  without  date,  at 
folios  272.  b,  etc.,  are  corrected  in  this  one,  dated  1550,  and 
prove  it  to  be  the  subsequent  edition  of  the  two,  — a fact  ne- 
cessarily inferred,  also,  from  the  additions  it  contains. 

4.  This  edition  of  1550  seems  to  have  been  issued  with 
different  title-pages,  for  Wolf  says  there  is  a copy  of  it  in  the 
Imperial  Library  at  Vienna,  dated  1554.  But  nearly  all  the 
copies  now  known  to  exist  bear  the  date  of  1555,  under  which 
this  collection  is  best  known,  and  is  commonly  cited.  It  is 
absolutely  the  same  work  with  the  copy  at  the  Bibliotheque 
de  1’ Arsenal,  dated  1550,  ballad  for  ballad,  and  page  for  page; 
and  as  there  is  no  aj)pearance  that  the  title-page  of  the  copy 
at  the  Ai’senal  has  been  tampered  with,  we  are  to  suppose 
that  three  editions  of  the  collection  of  ballads  made  at  Sara- 
gossa in  1550  appeared  in  the  course  of  that  year;  two  of 
which  were  published  by  Martin  Nucio,  at  Antwerp.  That 
all  three  are  only  one  work  is  apparent  from  the  circumstance, 
that  their  ballads  are  generally  the  same,  and  that  they  have 
the  same  Preface,  a little  changed  in  the  second  and  third  edi- 
tions to  meet  the  changes  in  the  ballads  contained  in  them. 
They  are  all  in  18mo.  The  fii’st,  taking  both  its  parts  togeth- 
er, fills  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  leaves ; the  second,  two  hun- 
dred and  seventy-six;  and  the  third,  three  hundred.  Several 
reprints  of  the  last  are  given  by  Wolf;  namely,  Antwerp,  1568 
and  1573 ; Lisbon,  1581 ; and  Barcelona,  1587  and  1626. 

Subsequent  to  the  Silva  of  Saragossa,  we  have  several 
collections  of  ballads,  that  are  noticed  in  the  text,  — such 


392 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  B. 


as  those  of  Sepulveda,  1551,  Timoneda,  1573,  Linares,  1573, 
Padilla,  1583,  Maldonado,  1586,  and  Cueva,  1587,  — consist- 
ing chiefly  or  entirely  of  ballads  written  by  their  respective 
authors.  At  last,  an  attempt  was  made  to  gather  another 
Romancero  from  all  the  sources,  whether  of  books,  memory, 
or  tradition,  that  were  open  to  its  collectors, — the  true  prin- 
ciple on  which  the  popular  Spanish  Romanceros  have  always 
been  compiled.  It  seems  to  have  been  begun  at  Valencia, 
when  the  first  volume  of  the  “ Flor  de  Varies  y Nuevos  Roman- 
ces, Primera  y Segunda  Parte,”  collected  by  Andres  de  Villalta, 
with  a Third  Part  by  FeUpe  Mey, — himself  a poet  and  scholar 
as  weU  as  a printer,' — were  printed  in  one  volume,  in  1593, 
though  each  of  them  had,  probably,  been  printed  earlier  by 
itself.  It  is  cited  by  Duran  (Romances  Caballarescos,  Ma- 
drid, 1832,  12mo,  Tom.  I.,  Advertencia) ; and  from  the  ballads 
he  took  out  of  it  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  its  three  parts 
differed  little  from  the  first  three  parts  of  the  “ Romancero  Ge- 
neral ” printed  somewhat  later.  The  second  volume  of  this  col- 
lection, which  is  entitled  “ Quarta  y Quinta  Parte  de  Flor  de 
Romances,”  was  collected  by  Sebastian  Velez  de  Guevara, 
Racionero  de  la  Colegial  de  Santander,  and  was  printed  at 
Bm-gos,  in  1594,  18mo,  one  hundred  and  ninety-one  leaves. 
It  is  apparently  not  the  first  edition,  for  the  Aprobacion  by 
Pedro  de  Padilla,  and  a permission  to  print  it,  are  dated  1592, 
while  the  permission  to  print  the  present  edition  is  dated  Au- 
gust 11,  1594,  and  says  it  has  been  “ otras  veces  impreso.” 
Probably  the  two  parts  were  originally  printed  separately. 

The  third  volume,  and  the  most  important,  is  entitled  “ Sex- 
ta  Parte  de  Flor  de  Romances  Nuevos,  recopilados  de  muchos 
Autores,  por  Pedro  de  Flores,  Librero,”  and  was  printed  at 
Toledo,  in  1594,  18mo,  one  hundred  and  ninety  leaves.  It  is 
the  first  edition,  but  the  license  seems  to  speak  of  a fourth  and 
fifth  part  as  if  also  made  by  Flores.  In  a ballad  prefixed  to 

1 Felipe  Mey  printed  a volume  of  found  in  Ximeno,  (Tom.  I.  p.  249,) 
his  own  poems  at  Tarragona,  in  1586,  completed  by  Fuster  (Tom.  I.  p.  213). 
from  which  Faber,  in  his  Floresta,  As  a translator  of  Ovid  he  is  favorably 
Tom.  II.,  has  taken  three  sonnets  of  noticed  by  Pellicer,  Biblioteca  de  Tra- 
some  merit.  A Life  of  him  may  be  ductores,  Tom.  11.  p.  76. 


App.  B.] 


ON  TIIE  ROMANCEROS. 


393 


this  third  volume,  Flores  is  accused  before  Apollo  of  having 
taken  great  pains  to  collect  its  contents. 

“ De  divcrsas  flores 
Un  ramillete  ha  juntado, 

Las  quales  con  grande  afan, 

De  estrafias  partes  buscaron  ” ; — 

to  which,  in  a defence  immediately  following,  Flores  replies, 
that  “ they  were  ballads  [romances  que  andavan  des- 

caiTiados],  which  he  had  brought  together  with  gi’eat  labor,” 
and  for  which  the  god  proceeds  to  reward  rather  than  to  pun- 
ish liim.  Flores  adds,  that  he  gives  each  ballad  complete,  and 
not  like  the  street-singers,  who  drawl  out  one  half^  and  then 
say  they  are  tired  of  it.  The  whole  account  shows  that  many 
of  the  ballads  in  this  Sixth  Part  — which  is  excellent  and 
contains  a hundred  and  fifty-eight  — were  collected  from  the 
memories  of  the  people  by  Pedro  Flores  Irimself. 

The  fourth  volume  contains  “ Septima  y Octava  Parte  de 
Flor  de  Varios  Romances  Nuevos,  recopilados  de  muchos 
Autores  ” ; printed  by  Juan  Ihiguez  de  Lequerica,  Alcala  de 
Henares,  1597,  18mo.  There  is  a license  for  each  part ; that 
of  the  first  dated  May  4,  1596,  and  recognizing  it  as  a re- 
print, and  that  of  the  second  dated  September  30,  1597,  as 
if  it  were  the  original  edition,  and  entitling  it  “ Flores  del 
Parnaso,  Octava  Parte.”  The  Seventh  Part  fills  one  hundred 
and  sLxty-eight  leaves,  and  the  Eighth  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
two  leaves,  numbered  separately. 

The  fifth  and  last  volume  is  called  “ Flor  de  Varios  Ro- 
mances diferentes  de  todos  impresos.  Novena  Parte,”  printed 
by  Juan  Flamenco,  Madrid,  1597,  18mo,  one  hunched  and 
forty-four  leaves.  The  Aprohacion,  4th  September,  1597,  and 
the  Tassa,  22d  March,  1596,  speak  of  it  as  the  eighth  and 
ninth  parts ; but  the  license,  without  date,  is  only  for  Part 
Ninth. 

5.  From  these  nine  parts  was  made,  with  slight  changes 
and  additions,  chiefly  toward  the  end,  the  first  edition  of  the 
“ Romancero  General,”  which  was  printed  at  Madrid,  1600, 
4to ; the  Tassa  being  dated  16th  December,  1599.  A copy 
VOL.  in.  50 


394 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  B. 


of  it  is  in  the  National  Library  at  Madrid.  A new  edition  — 
again  with  slight  changes  — appeared  in  1602;  and  another  in 
1604.  This  last  was  reprinted,  without  alteration,  by  Juan  de 
la  Cuesta,  at  Madrid,  in  1614.  But  Miguel  de  Madrigal  had 
previously  published  the  “ Segunda  Parte  del  Romancero  Ge- 
neral y FJor  de  diversa  Poesia,”  (Valladolid,  1605,  4to,)  which 
may  appropriately  be  added  to  either  of  the  last  two  editions 
of  the  ])rincipal  work ; and  thus,  from  nine  parts,  of  which  all 
four  of  the  editions  otheiwise  consist,  extend  them  to  thirteen 
parts.  All  these  editions  are  in  small  quarto,  and  constitute 
the  well-known  “ Romanceros  Generales.” 

The  publication  of  so  many  different  collections  of  ballads, 
in  the  last  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  the  first  years  of 
the  seventeenth,  leaves  no  doubt  that  ballads  had  then  become 
known  in  all  classes  of  society,  and  were  gradually  finding 
favor  with  the  highest.  But  the  Romanceros  Generales  were 
too  large  for  popular  use.  Smaller  ballad-books,  therefore, 
were  printed  ; such  as  the  “ Jardin  de  Amadores,”  by  Juan  de 
la  Puente,  1611  ; the  “ Primavera  ” of  Pedro  Arias  Perez, 
made  with  much  judgment,  and  printed  in  1626,  1659,  etc.; 
the  “ Maravillas  del  Parnaso  ” of  Jorge  Pinto  de  Morales, 
1640;  the  “Romances  Varies”  of  Pablo  de  Val,  1655;  and 
several  others,  to  say  nothing  of  the  many  still  less  considera- 
ble collections,  making  only  a sheet  or  two,  which  are  noticed 
by  Pepping  and  Wolf,  and  which  were  published  to  meet  the 
broad  demands  of  the  less  cultivated  portions  of  the  Spanish 
people,  just  as  they  have  been  published  and  republished 
down  to  our  own  times.  For  similar  reasons,  though,  perhaps, 
more  to  gratify  the  military  taste  of  the  age,  and  afford  amuse- 
ment to  the  armies  in  Flanders,  Italy,  and  the  Indies,  selec- 
tions were  made  from  the  Romanceros  Generales,  and  contri- 
butions obtained  from  other  sources,  to  make  smaller  and 
more  convenient  ballad-books  of  a stirring  natm'e.  Such  is 
the  “ Floresta  de  Romances  de  los  Doce  Pares  de  Francia,” 
by  Damian  Lopez  de  Tortajada,  the  first  edition  of  which  was 
printed  at  Alcala  in  1608,  (Don  Quixote,  ed.  Pellicer,  1797, 
8vo,  Tom.  I.  p.  105,)  and  such  is  the  “ Romancero  del  Cid,” 
by  Juan  de  Escobar,  first  printed  at  Alcala  in  1612  (Antonio, 


App.  B.] 


ON  THE  ROMANCEROS. 


395 


Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  I.  p.  684) ; both  of  which  have  often  been 
reprinted  since. 

But  towards  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  a love  for 
the  old  Spanish  ballads,  as  well  as  for  the  rest  of  the  elder 
national  literature,  began  to  decay  in  the  more  favored  classes 
of  society ; and,  with  the  coming  in  of  the  eighteenth  century 
and  the  Bourbon  family,  it  disappeared  almost  entirely.  So 
strong  a feeling,  however,  and  one  that  had  struck  its  roots 
so  deeply  in  the  popular  character,  could  not  be  extirpated. 
The  ballads  were  forgotten  and  neglected  by  the  courtly  and 
the  noble,  but  that  the  mass  of  the  nation  was  as  faithful  to 
them  as  ever  we  have  the  plain  testimony  of  Sarmiento,  and 
the  fact,  that  they  were  constantly  reprinted  for  popular  use 
in  the  humblest  forms,  — most  frequently  in  what  are  called 
broadsides.  At  last,  an  attempt  was  made  to  replace  them 
on  their  old  ground.  Fernandez,  in  1796,  printed  two  volumes 
of  them  in  his  collection  of  Castilian  poetry,  and  Quintana 
made  a small,  but  dainty,  bouquet  of  them  for  his  lyilcal  ex- 
tracts in  1807,  adding  to  each  publication  a Preface,  which 
gave  them  praise  high  and  graceful,  if  not  such  as  seemed  to 
be  imbued  with  their  own  earnest  spirit.  Little  effect,  how- 
ever, was  yet  produced  at  home,  but  some  was  soon  apparent 
abroad.  Jacob  Grimm  publislied  at  Vienna,  in  1815,  a small 
collection  of  the  best  old  ballads,  chiefly  taken  from  the  Ro- 
mancero  of  1555 ; and  C.  B.  Depping  published  at  Leipzig,  in 
1817,  a larger  one,  containing  above  three  hundred  ballads, 
with  a Preface  and  notes  in  German,  the  whole  of  which  was 
republished  in  Spanish,  first,  with  slight  additions  and  coiTec- 
tions,  at  London,  in  1825,  by  V.  Salva,  and  secondly,  with  very 
large  and  important  additions,  at  Leipzig,  by  Depping  himself 
and  by  A.  A.  Galiano,  in  1844;  — publications  of  great  merit, 
which  have  done  more  than  all  that  had  been  done  previously 
to  make  the  old  Spanish  ballads  known  in  Europe  generally, 
and  which  have  apparently  called  forth  the  admirably  spirited 
translations  of  ballads  by  J.  G.  Lockhart,  1823,  and  the  inter- 
esting historically-arranged  French  versions  in  prose  of  nearly 
three  hundred,  by  Damas  Hinard,  1844. 

A very  important  publication  of  Spanish  ballads  in  later 


396 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Apf.  B. 


times  comes,  however,  as  it  should  come,  from  Spain  itself, 
and  was  made  by  Don  Agustin  Duran,  to  whom  early  Span- 
ish literature,  in  other  respects,  owes  much.  He  began,  in 
1828,  with  the  Moorish  ballads  in  the  Romancero  General  of 
1614,  and  went  on,  in  1829,  with  two  volumes  of  miscella- 
neous ballads,  ending  his  labors,  in  1832,  with  two  volumes 
more,  containing  historical  ballads  and  ballads  of  chivalry;  — 
in  all,  five  volumes,  — the  last  four  of  which  are  collected  from 
aU  the  sources  he  could  command  earlier  than  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  whole  of  which,  with  ad- 
ditions, have  been  republished  at  Paris  by  Ochoa,  in  1838, 
and  at  Barcelona  by  Pons,  in  1840. 

Still,  a general,  thorough,  and  critical  collection  of  Spanish 
ballads  is  wanting ; — one  embracing  those  of  the  known  au- 
thors, like  Cueva,  Padilla,  Lope  de  Vega,  Quevedo,  and  G6n- 
gora,  as  well  as  the  untold  wealth  that  remains,  and  must 
always  remain,  anonymous  in  the  elder  Romanceros.  When 
we  possess  such  a work,  and  not  before,  we  can  understand 
and  honor,  as  they  deserve  to  be  understood  and  honored,  the 
poetry  and  the  nationality  of  the  old  Spanish  ballads,  upon 
which,  as  upon  its  true  foundations,  rests  the  old  Spanish 
drama.  But  to  whom  shall  we  look  for  it  ? Is  it  to  Duran  at 
Madrid,  or  to  Wolf  at  Vienna,  or  to  Huber  at  Berlin  ? I have 
intimations  that  one  may  be  expected  from  Duran,  and  hope 
they  may  soon  be  fulfilled. 


APPENDIX,  C. 


ON  FERNAN  GOMEZ  DE  CIBDAREAL  AND  THE  “ CENTON 
EPISTOLARIO.” 

(See  Vol.  I.  p.  398.) 

I HAVE  treated  the  “ Centon  Epistolario  ” in  the  text  just 
as  it  has  heretofore  been  treated;  that  is,  as  a collection  of 
the  unstudied  letters  of  a simple-hearted,  vain  man,  who,  for 
above  forty  years,  was  attached  to  the  person  of  John  the 
Second,  and  familiar  with  what  was  done  at  his  court.  Still, 
the  exactness  and  genuineness  of  the  work  have  not  been  en- 
tirely unquestioned.  Mayans  y Siscar  (in  his  Origenes,  Tom. 
I.,  1737,  p.  203)  speaks  of  Antonio  de  Vera  y Zuniga,  (see, 
ante,  Vol.  II.  p.  500,  Vol.  III.  p.  184,)  the  well-known  author  and 
diplomatist  of  the  time  of  Philip  the  Fourth,  sometimes  called 
Vera  y Figueroa,  and  says,  “ Fearaente  adultero  las  epistolas 
historicas  del  Bachiller  Fernan  Gomez  de  Ciudad  Real,”  — 
He  shamefidJij  adulterated  the  historical  letters  of  the  Bachelor 
Ferdinand  Gomez  de  Cibdareal ; but  Mayans  gives  no  rea- 
.sons  or  facts  to  support  this  severe  charge,  and  he  is  roundly 
rebuked  for  it  by  Diosdado,  (in  his  treatise  “ De  Prima  Typo- 
graphia?  Hispanicae  iEtate,”  Romae,  1794,  p.  74,)  who  calls  it 
“ an  ati'ocious  calumny.”  And  again,  Quintana,  in  his  Life  of 
Alvaro  de  Luna,  (Vidas  de  Espaholes  Celebres,  Tom.  III.,  1833, 
p.  248,  note,)  is  so  much  troubled  about  some  of  the  discrepan- 
cies between  the  Baehelor’s  accounts  of  the  death  of  the  Con- 
stable and  the  known  facts  of  history,  that  he,  too,  suggests 
all  sorts  of  doubts,  but  ends  by  saying  that  he  follows  the 

HH 


398 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  C. 


Bachelor’s  accounts  as  a sufficient  authority  where  they  are 
not  directly  contradicted  by  others  higher  and  safer. 

My  own  opinion  is,  that  the  book  is  a forgery  from  begin- 
ning to  end  ; but  a forgery  so  ingenious,  so  happy,  so  agreea- 
ble, that  it  may  seem  an  ungracious  thing  to  teU  the  truth 
about  it,  or  attempt  to  disturb  the  position  it  has  so  long  held 
in  the  Castilian  literature  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  facts 
on  which  I ground  my  opinion  are  chiefly  these  : — 

1.  No  such  person  as  the  Bachelor  Cibdareal  is  mentioned 
in  the  chronicles  or  correspondence  of  the  period  during  which 
he  is  supposed  to  have  lived,  though  our  accounts  from  such 
sources  are  copious  and  minute  ; noticing,  I believe,  every- 
body of  consequence  at  the  court  of  John  the  Second,  and 
certainly  many  persons  of  much  less  importance  than  the 
king’s  confidential  physician. 

2.  No  manuscript  of  the  Letters  is  known  to  be  in  ex- 
istence. 

3.  The  first  notice  of  them  is,  that  they  appear  in  an  edition 
in  small  quarto,  black  letter,  one  hundred  and  sixty-six  pages, 
which  claims  to  have  been  printed  at  Burgos  in  1499.  Of  this 
edition,  few  copies  have  ever  been  seen.  Antonio,  who  died  in 
1684,  intimates  (Bib.  Vetus,  Tom.  II.  p.  250)  a doubt  about 
the  truth  of  its  date  ; Bayer,  in  his  note  on  the  passage,  1788, 
says  that  learned  men  commonly  supposed  that  Antonio  de 
Vera  y Zuniga,  (who  died  in  1658,)  published  this  edition;  and 
Mendez  (in  his  Typographia,  1796,  pp.  291  and  293)  declares 
the  edition  to  be  unquestionably  half  a century  later  than 
its  pretended  date ; — - all  three  of  these  learned  men  being 
experts  and  good  witnesses  concerning  a fact,  which,  I think, 
must  be  obvious  to  any  person  familiar  with  the  earliest  print- 
ed Spanish  books,  who  should  look  on  a copy  of  it  now  before 
me.  The  name  of  the  printer  on  its  title-page,  Juan  de  Rei, 
it  is  important  to  add,  is  otherttflse  suspected. 

4.  The  next  edition  of  the  Letters  of  Cibdareal  is  that  of 
Madrid,  1775,  edited  by  Don  Eugenio  Llaguno  y Amirola, 
Secretary  of  the  Academy  of  History,  who  thinks  the  first 
edition  could  not  have  been  printed  till  after  1600 ; — a cir- 
cumstance otherwise  probable,  as  I am  not  aware  that  it  is 


App.  C.] 


THE  CENTON  EPISTOLARIO. 


399 


cited  by  any  author  of  an  earlier  date.  Indeed,  if  Antonio  de 
Vera  y Zuniga  had  any  thing  to  do  with  it,  we  must  suppose 
it  to  have  been  printed  yet  later ; for  in  1600  that  statesman 
was  only  about  ten  years  old. 

5.  The  Bachelor  Cibdareal  gives  a date  to  no  one  of  his 
letters ; but  so  completely  are  the  facts  or  hints  for  them  to  be 
detected  in  the  Chronicle  of  John  the  Second,  that  the  editor 
of  the  Letters  in  1775  has  been  able,  by  means  of  that  Chron- 
icle, to  affix  its  proper  date  to  every  one,  I believe,  of  the  hun- 
dred and  five  letters  of  which  the  collection  consists.  This 
would  hardly  be  possible,  if  the  two  works  had  been  written 
quite  independently  of  each  other. 

6.  The  style  of  the  Letters,  though  certainly  adapted  with 
great  skill  and  felicity  to  its  supposed  period,  is  not  uniformly 
true  to  it,  erring  on  the  side  of  curious  archaisms.  Some- 
times it  goes  fm-ther,  and  uses  words  for  which  no  example 
can  be  adduced.  Thus  the  use  of  ca  in  the  sense  of  than  is 
wholly  unjustifiable ; and  wherever  it  so  occurs  in  the  first 
edition,  it  is  altered  in  the  edition  of  1775  to  que,  in  order  to 
make  sense.  Other  errors  more  trifling  might  be  noticed ; and 
in  the  spelling  there  is  a systematical  use  of  c for  c in  words 
that  never  were  spelt  with  a c. 

7.  The  few  words  in  the  “ Aviso  al  Letor,”  and  the  stiU 
fewer  that  introduce  the  verses  at  the  end  of  the  volume, 
profess  to  come  from  the  Editor,  who,  according  to  Bayer, 
Mendez,  etc.,  lived  after  1600,  and  should,  therefore,  have 
written  in  the  style  of  the  period  when  Mariana  and  Cervantes 
flomished.  But  he  writes  exactly  in  the  style  of  the  Letters 
he  edits,  which  claim  to  be  a century  and  a half  older ; and, 
what  is  worse,  he  uses  in  his  own  person  the  ca  for  que, 
which,  as  we  have  noticed,  nobody  else  ever  used,  except  his 
Bachelor. 

8.  All  accounts  represent  Juan  de  Mena  as  having  died  at 
ToiTelaguna  in  1456,  at  the  age  of  forty -five.  (Antonio,  Bib. 
Vetus,  ed.  Bayer,  Tom.  II.  p.  266;  and  Romero,  Epicedio, 
1578,  f.  486,  at  the  end  of  Hernan  Nunez,  Proverbios.)  Now 
the  supposed  Cibdareal  (Epist.  20)  places  Juan  de  Mena,  in 
1428,  — when  he  was,  of  course,  only  seventeen  years  old,  — 


400 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  C. 


on  the  most  familiar  footing  at  court,  and  makes  him  akeady 
historiographer  to  the  Idng,  and  far  advanced  in  his  princi- 
pal poem ; — a statement  the  more  incredible  when  we  ree- 
ollect  that  Romero  says  expressly,  that  Mena  was  twenty- 
three  years  old  when  he  first  gave  himself  to  “ the  sweet  la- 
bor of  good  learning,”  — - “ al  dulce  trabajo  de  aquel  buen 
saber.”  See  the  notice  of  Juan  de  Mena,  ante,  Vol.  1.  pp. 
379-388. 

9.  The  contemptuous  account  Cibdareal  gives  of  Barrien- 
tos is  not  one  which  a courtier  in  his  position  would  be  likely 
to  give  of  a person  already  of  great  consequence,  and  rising 
fast  to  the  highest  places  in  the  government.  But,  what  is 
more,  it  is  not  the  true  account.  He  represents  that  distin- 
guished ecclesiastic,  as  we  have  seen,  (ante,  Vol.  I.  p.  359,)  to 
have  burnt,  in  a very  rash  and  reckless  manner,  a large  quan- 
tity of  books,  from  the  library  of  the  Marquis  of  ViUena,  sent 
to  him  for  examination  after  the  death  of  their  owner,  because 
he  had  been  accused,  in  his  lifetime,  of  studying  magic, — 
Barrientos,  as  Cibdareal  would  have  us  believe,  knowing  noth- 
ing about  the  contents  of  the  books,  which  he  bm'nt,  at  once, 
only  because  he  would  not  take  the  trouble  to  examine  them. 
Now  I happen  to  possess,  in  an  unpublished  manuscript  of 
Banientos,  his  own  account  of  this  very  matter.  It  is  in  a 
learned  ti'eatise  on  Divination,  which  he  'wrote  by  order  of 
John  the  Second,  and  addressed  to  that  monarch ; and  in  the 
Preface  to  the  Second  Part  of  which  he  declares  that  he  burnt 
the  books  in  question  by  the  royal  order,  and  intimates,  that, 
in  his  own  opinion,  they  should  have  been  spared.  “ And  this 
book,”  he  says,  speaking  of  the  one  called  “ Raziel,”  to  which 
I have  alluded,  {ante,  Vol.  L,  p.  359,  note,)  “this  book  is  the 
one,  which,  after  the  death  of  Don  Enrique  [de  ViUena],  you, 
as  king,  commanded  me,  your  servant  and  creature,  to  burn, 
with  many  others,  which  I did,  in  presence  of  sundry  of  your 
servants ; — ■ a matter  in  which,  as  in  many  other  things,  you 
showed  and  stUl  show  the  great  devotion  yom-  Highness  has 
always  had  for  the  Christian  religion.  And,  although  this  was 
and  is  to  be  praised,  stiU,  for  other  respects,  it  is  good  in  some 
way  to  preserve  such  books,  provided  they  are  in  the  hands 


App.  C.] 


THE  CENTON  EPISTOLARIO. 


401 


and  power  of  good,  trustworthy  persons,  who  will  take  heed 
that  they  be  read  by  none  but  wise  men,”  etc. ; — a very  differ- 
ent account  certainly  from  the  one  given  in  the  letter  of  Cib- 
dareal,  and  one  which,  being  adch'essed  to  the  king,  who  was 
necessarily  acquainted  with  the  whole  ti’ansaction,  can  hardly 
have  been  untrue. 

10.  The  most  considerable  event  recorded  in  the  Letters  of 
Cibdareal,  and  one  of  the  most  considerable  occurrences  in 
Spain  during  the  fifteenth  century,  is  the  execution  of  the 
Constable  Alvaro  de  Luna,  at  Valladolid,  June  2,  1452.  The 
Bachelor  says,  he  was  with  the  king  in  that  city  the  day  it 
happened  and  the  night  preceding;  that  the  king  showed 
great  irresolution  as  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  sentence  up  to 
the  last  moment;  that  he  had  a soiTowful  and  sleepless 
night  before  it  occurred ; and  that  nobody  dared  to  tell  him 
the  execution  was  absolutely  over  till  he  had  eaten  his  dinner ; 
— adding  to  these  striking  statements  sundry  picturesque 
local  details,  as  if  they  had  come  within  his  own  knowledge 
by  his  witnessing  the  execution.  Now  the  truth  is,  that  the 
king  was  not  in  Valladolid  on  that  day,  nor  for  some  days 
before  and  after;  and  it  would  have  been  a very  hard-heart- 
ed thing  if  he  had  been  there  at  the  moment  when  his  old 
friend  and  favorite  minister  of  state,  to  whom  he  never 
ceased  to  be  attached,  was  brought  to  the  scaffold,  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  turbulent  nobility  whom  he  had  oppressed.  The 
king  was,  in  fact,  then  at  the  siege  of  Maqueda,  a little  town 
northwest  of  Toledo,  above  eighty  miles  off,  as  appears  by 
his  letters  stUl  extant,  dated  May  29,  June  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  etc. ; 
so  that  many  of  the  cncumstances  recorded  in  Cibdareal’s  let- 
ter (the  103d)  are  necessarily  untrue.  Moreover,  the  supposed 
Cibdareal  places  the  execution  of  the  Constable  on  the  eve 
of  Saint  Mary  Magdalen,  — “Vlspera  de  la  Magdalena,”  — 
confounding  it  with  the  date  of  the  death  of  the  king,  which 
happened  on  that  day  the  next  year,  and  thus  placing  it  on 
the  21st  of  July,  which  was  the  eve  of  Saint  Mary  Magdalen, 
instead  of  the  2d  of  June,  which,  after  some  discussion,  long 
since  the  time  when  these  Letters  were  first  printed,  has  been 
determined  to  be  the  true  day  of  the  execution.  This  gross 

51  H H * 


VOL.  in. 


402 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  C. 


mistake  in  the  Letters  about  the  date  of  the  Constable’s  death 
was  made,  I suppose,  in  part  from  carelessness,  and  in  part 
because  that  date  was  not  then  settled,  as  it  is  now.  (See 
Mendez,  Typographia,  1796,  pp.  256-260;  and  Quintana, 
Vidas,  Tom.  III.  pp.  437-439.) 

11.  The  age  in  which  I suppose  the  Letters  of  Cibdareal  to 
liave  been  forged  was  one  in  which  such  attempts  were  likely 
to  be  made.  It  was  in  Spain  an  age  of  forgeries.  Guevara 
had  just  before  maintained  his  “ Marcus  Aurehus  ” to  be  true 
history,  {^ee,  ante,  Vol.  I.  p.  541.)  The  “Leaden  Books” 
of  Granada,  and  the  “ Chronicones  ” of  Father  Higuera, — 
the  first  decided  by  the  whole  civil  authority  of  the  realm  to  be 
genuine,  and  the  second  received  as  such  by  a very  general 
consent,  — were,  from  1595  to  1652,  at  the  height  of  their 
success,  though  both  have  long  since  been  admitted  to  be 
gross  frauds,  which  acute  scholars  like  Montano,  and  histo- 
rians like  Mariana,  must,  indeed,  have  seen  through,  and  were 
too  high-minded  to  countenance ; but  which,  it  should  be  re- 
membered, they  did  not  feel  strong  enough  openly  to  resist 
and  denounce.  In  this  state  of  opinion  in  Spain,  some  in- 
genious scholar  — perhaps  Vera  y Zuniga  — as  clear-sighted 
as  they  were  and  only  a little  less  scrupulous,  may  well  have 
been  encouraged  to  imitate  Father  Higuera  in  a matter  which, 
instead  of  being  an  attempt,  hke  his,  to  bring  false  records  con- 
cerning important  affabs  into  the  history  of  the  kingdom,  may 
have  been  regarded  merely  as  a literary  jeM  d' esprit,  intended 
to  mislead  nobody  on  any  point  except  merely  that  of  the 
genuineness  of  the  correspondence.  (See,  ante,  Vol.  III.  p. 
152,  note.) 

Against  aU  this  may  be  urged  the  general  simplicity  and 
interesting  details  of  the  Letters  themselves,  so  appropriate  in 
their  tone  to  the  age  they  iUusti’ate,  and  the  fact,  that  for 
above  two  centuries  they  have  been  cited  as  the  highest  au- 
thority for  the  events  of  which  they  speak;  a fact,  however, 
whose  importance  is  diminished  when  we  recollect  how  rarely 
a spirit  of  criticism  has  shown  itself  in  Spanish  historical  litera- 
ture, and  that  even  in  Spanish  poetry  the  case  of  the  Bachiller 
de  la  Ton’e  is,  in  some  respects,  as  strong  as  that  of  the  Ba- 


App.  C ] 


THE  CENTON  EPISTOLARIO. 


403 


chiller  de  Cibdareal,  and  in  others  yet  stronger.  At  any  rate, 
all  we  know  with  tolerable  certainty  about  the  Bachelor 
Cibdareal  is,  that  the  first  edition  of  his  Letters  is  a forgery, 
intended  to  conceal  something,  and  more  likely,  I think, 
intended  to  conceal  the  spuriousness  of  the  whole  than  any 
thing  else. 


APPENDIX,  D. 


ON  THE  BUSCAPIE. 

(See  Vol.  II.  pp.  105,  etc.) 

A GOOD  deal  has  been  said  within  the  last  seventy  years, 
and  especially  of  late,  (1847-49,)  about  a pamphlet  entitled 
‘•^El  Buscapie,'^  — “The  Squib,”  or  “Search-foot,”  — supposed 
by  some  persons  to  have  been  written  by  Cervantes,  soon  after 
the  publication  of  the  First  Part  of  his  Don  Quixote.  The 
subject,  though  not  one  of  great  consequence,  is  certainly  not 
without  interest,  and  the  facts  in  relation  to  it  are,  I believe, 
as  follows. 

In  the  Life  of  Cervantes,  by  Vicente  de  los  Rios,  prefixed 
to  the  magnificent  edition  of  the  Don  Quixote  published  by 
the  Spanish  Academy  in  1780,  (see,  ante,  Vol.  II.  p.  52,)  it  is 
stated,  that,  on  the  appearance  of  the  First  Part  of  that  ro- 
mance, in  1605,  the  pubhc  having,  according  to  a tradition 
not,  I think,  earlier  recorded,  received  it  with  coldness  or  cen- 
sure, the  author  himself  published  an  anonymous  pamphlet, 
called  “ The  Squib,”  in  which  he  gave  a pleasant  critique  on 
his  Don  Quixote,  insinuating  that  it  was  a covert  satire  on 
smidry  well-known  and  important  personages,  without,  how- 
ever, in  the  slightest  degree  intimating  who  those  personages 
were ; in  consequence  of  which,  the  public  cmiosity  became 
much  excited,  and  the  Don  Quixote  obtained  such  attention 
as  it  needed  in  order  to  insure  its  success.  (Tom.  I.  p.  xvii.) 

In  a note  appended  (p.  cxci.)  to  this  statement  of  the  tradi- 
tion, we  have  a letter  of  Don  Antonio  Ruydiaz,  — a person  of 


App.  D.] 


ON  THE  BUSCAPIE. 


405 


whom  little  or  nothing  is  now  known,  except  that  Don  Vi- 
cente declares  him  to  have  been  a man  of  learning  worthy  of 
credit,  — in  which  letter,  under  date  of  December  16,  1775, 
Don  Antonio  asserts,  that,  about  sixteen  years  earlier,  he  had 
seen  a copy  of  the  Buscapie  at  the  house  of  the  Count  of  Sal- 
ceda,  and  had  read  it ; — that  it  was  a small  anomjmmis  vol- 
ume, printed  at  Madrid  with  a good  type  and  on  poor  paper ; 

— that  it  pretended  to  be  written  by  a person  who  had  neg- 
lected to  buy  or  read  the  Don  Quixote  for  some  time  after  its 
first  appearance,  but  who,  having  at  last  bought  and  read  it, 
had  been  filled  with  admiration  at  its  merits  and  resolved  in 
consequence  to  make  them  known ; — that  this  Buscapie  de- 
clared the  characters  in  the  Don  QuLxote  to  be,  in  the  main, 
imaginary,  but  yet  insinuated  that  they  had  certain  relations 
to  the  designs  and  gallantries  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the 
Fifth,  and  of  some  of  the  principal  personages  in  his  govern- 
ment ; — and  that  the  Count  de  Salceda  being  dead,  and  the 
copy  of  the  Buscapie  in  question  having  been  only  lent  to  that 
nobleman  by  some  person  unknown  to  the  writer  of  the  letter, 
he  could  give  no  further  account  of  the  matter. 

This  statement,  differing,  it  will  be  noted,  from  the  tradition 
recorded  in  the  text  to  which  it  is  appended,  in  what  relates  to 
the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  was  not,  on  the  whole,  deemed 
satisfactory.  Pelhcer,  besides  other  strong  doubts,  doubted 
whether  Cervantes  wrote  the  pamphlet,  even  if  all  the  rest  re- 
lated of  it  were  true,  (Don  Quixote,  ed.  1797,  Tom.  I.  p.  xcvii.,) 
and  Navarrete  inclined  to  the  opinion,  that  there  was  some  mis- 
take about  the  whole  affair,  and  that  Cervantes  could  never  have 
intended  to  allude  to  the  Emperor  in  the  way  intimated  (Vida 
de  Cervantes,  1819,  § 105,  etc.) ; to  which  Clemencin  has  since 
added  the  suggestion,  that  the  copy  of  the  Buscapie,  alleged  to 
have  been  seen  by  Ruydiaz,  might  have  been  a forgery  cunningly 
imposed  on  the  Count  of  Salceda,  who  was  “rich  and  greedy” 

— rico  y goloso  — in  such  matters  (ed.  D.  Quixote,  Tom. 
IV.,  1835,  p.  50).  Indeed,  the  intimations  concerning  Charles 
the  Fifth  were  so  absurd  in  themselves,  and  the  fact, : — un- 
known when  the  Academy  published  their  edition  of  1780, — 
that  four  editions  of  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote  were,  with- 


406 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  D, 


in  a year  from  the  date  of  its  appearance,  demanded  in  order 
to  satisfy  the  impatient  curiosity  of  the  public,  is  so  decisive  of 
its  popular  success  from  the  outset,  that  men  were,  before  long, 
disposed  to  believe  that  there  never  was  a Buscapie  written 
by  any  body.  After  a tiiue,  therefore,  the  discussion  about 
it  ceased,  except  among  those  who  were  interested  in  the 
smallest  details  of  the  life  of  Cervantes. 

But  in  1847  the  whole  subject  came  up  afresh.  Don  Adolfo 
de  Castro,  a young  Andalusian  gentleman,  much  devoted  to 
researches  in  early  Spanish  literature,  and  the  author  of  sev- 
eral cmious  historical  works,  wMch  give  proof  of  his  suc- 
cess, declared  that  he  had  accidentally  found  a copy  of  the 
Buscapie.  In  1848  he  published  it  at  Cadiz,  in  a duodecimo 
volume,  with  a body  of  very  learned  notes,  — the  text,  in  large 
type,  making  forty-six  pages,  and  the  notes  one  hundred  and 
eighty-eight  pages,  which,  if  printed  with  the  same  type,  would 
make  above  two  hundred  and  fifty. 

In  the  Preface,  Don  Adolfo  declares,  that  the  Buscapie  he 
thus  publishes  was  printed  from  a manuscript  which  he  had 
obtained  from  the  library  of  Don  Pascual  de  Gandara,  a law- 
yer of  the  city  of  San  Fernando,  which  library,  apparently  after 
the  death  of  its  owner,  had  been  brought,  less  than  three 
months  before,  to  the  city  of  Cadiz,  the  residence  of  Don 
Adolfo,  to  be  publicly  sold ; — that  the  title  of  the  manuscript, 
which  purports  throughout  to  be  the  work  of  Cen^antes,  is 
“ The  very  pleasant  little  Book,  called  the  Squib,  in  which,  be- 
sides its  much  and  excellent  Learning,  are  explained  all  the 
hidden  and  unexplained  Matters  in  the  Ingenious  Knight,  Don 
Quixote  de  la  Mancha,  witten  by  a certain  Cerv^antes  de  Saa- 
vedra ” ; — that  the  manuscript  in  question  is  not  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Cervantes,  but,  as  appears  by  a memorandum  fol- 
lowing the  title,  is  a copy  made  at  Madrid,  February  27, 1606, 
for  Agostin  de  Molina,  son  of  Argote  de  Molina,  and  that 
it  had  subsequently  come  into  the  possession  of  the  Duke  of 
Lafoes,  of  the  royal  family  of  Braganza ; — that  it  contains  no 
allusion  whatever  disrespectful  to  the  Emperor  Charles  the 
Fifth,  for  whom,  as  Don  Adolfo  believes,  Cervantes  had  a sin- 
cere admiration  ; — that  it  was,  according  to  the  Aprobacion  of 


App.  D.] 


ON  THE  BUSCAPifi. 


407 


Gutierre  de  Cetina,  June  27, 1605,  and  that  of  Tliomas  Gracian 
Dantisco,  on  the  6th  of  August  follomng,  prepared  for  the 
press,  but  that  it  was  not  in  fact  printed,  or  it  would  not  have 
been  needful  to  make  a copy  of  it  in  manuscript  the  next  year ; 
— and  that  the  true  and  real  object  of  the  Squib  was,  not  to 
attract  attention  to  the  Don  Quixote,  but  to  defend  that  work 
against  many  persons  accounted  learned,  who,  as  Don  Adolfo 
suggests,  had  attacked  it  with  some  severity. 

In  the  Buscapie,  which  immediately  follows  these  state- 
ments, Cervantes  represents  himself  as  riding  on  his  mule  one 
day  upon  the  road  to  Toledo,  a little  beyond  the  Puente  To- 
ledana,  when  he  sees  coming  towards  him  a Bachelor  mount- 
ed on  a sorry  hack,  that  at  last  falls  with  him  to  the  groxmd, 
in  the  midst  of  a contest  between  the  beast  and  his  rider,  as 
to  whether  they  shall  go  on  or  no.  Cervantes  courteously 
helps  the  stranger  to  rise ; and  then,  after  a few  introductory 
words,  they  agree  to  spend  together,  under  some  neighbouring 
trees,  the  heat  of  the  day,  then  fast  coming  upon  them.  The 
Bachelor,  a foolish,  conceited  little  fellow,  with  a very  de- 
formed person,  produces  two  books  for  their  common  enter- 
tainment. The  first  of  them  is  “ The  Spiritual  Verses  of 
Pedro  de  Ezinas,”  which  they  both  praise,  and  of  whose  au- 
thor Cervantes  speaks  as  of  a personal  acquaintance.  Tlic 
other  is  the  Don  Quixote,  which  the  Bachelor  treats  very 
slightingly,  and  which  Cervantes,  a little  disturbed  by  such 
contempt,  maintains,  in  general  terms,  to  be  a book  of  merit, 
not  hinting,  however,  to  the  Bachelor  that  he  is  its  author, 
and  putting  his  defence  on  the  ground,  that  it  is  a well- 
intended  attempt  to  drive  the  institution  of  chivaky  from  the 
world. 

But  the  vain,  gan-ulous  little  Bachelor  prefers  to  talk  about 
himself  or  to  teU  stories  about  his  father,  and  is  with  difficulty 
brought  bade  to  the  Don  Quixote,  which  he  then  assails  as  a 
book  absurdly  recognizing  the  existence  of  knight-eiTantry  at 
the  time  it  was  published,  and  therefore  at  the  very  tim(' 
when  they  are  talking  about  it,  — a position  which  Cervan- 
tes fully  admits  and  then  defends,  alleging,  in  proof  of  its 
truth,  the  examples  of  Suero  de  Quinones  and  Charles  tlie 


408 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  D. 


Fifth ; while,  on  the  other  side,  the  Bachelor  sets  forth,  how 
glad  he  should  be  if  it  were  really  so,  because  he  would  then 
turn  knight  himself,  and  come  by  a princess  and  a kingdom 
as  other  knights  had  done  before  him  ; — all  in  a strain  as 
crazy  as  that  of  the  hero  of  Cervantes,  and  sometimes  much 
resembhng  it.  Cervantes  replies,  maintaining  the  real,  actual 
existence  of  knight-erranti'y  in  his  own  time  by  the  examples 
of  Olivier  de  Lamarche  and  others,  which  are  as  little  to  the 
purpose  as  those  of  Quinones  and  the  Emperor  Charles  the 
Fifth,  already  cited  by  him ; and  so  the  discussion  goes  on, 
until  a scene  occurs  between  the  hack  of  the  Bachelor  and  the 
mule  of  Cervantes,  not  unlike  that  between  Rozinante  and 
the  horse-flesh  of  the  Galician  carriers,  in  the  fifteenth  chapter 
of  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  and  one  that  ends  with  the 
total  overthrow  and  demolition  of  the  Bachelor’s  beast.  This 
breaks  up  the  conversation  between  their  two  riders,  and 
brings  the  pamphlet  to  a conclusion,  — Cervantes  leaving  the 
unlucky  Bachelor  to  get  Qut  of  his  troubles  as  best  he  may. 

On  closing  this  gay  little  trifle,  we  are  at  once  struck  with 
the  circumstance,  that  the  Buscapie  we  have  just  read,  avow- 
ing itself  on  every  page  to  be  the  work  of  Cervantes^  and  de- 
clared never  to  have  been  printed  tfll  the  year  1848,  can  have 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with  the  anonymous  Buscapie  of  which  a 
printed  copy  is  supposed  to  have  been  seen  about  the  year 
1759 ; — in  fact,  that  it  involves  a formal  and  complete  con- 
tradiction of  every  thing  of  consequence  that  was  ever  said  or 
supposed  on  the  subject,  before  it  appeared.  This  simplifies 
the  matter  very  much.  It  is  as  if  a Buscapie  had  never  before 
been  mentioned,  and  we  are  therefore  to  examine  the  one 
now  published  by  Don  Adolfo  de  Castro  as  if  the  statement 
of  Los  Rios  and  the  letter  of  Ruydiaz  had  never  appeared. 

The  next  thing  that  occurs  to  us  is  the  strangeness  of  the 
circumstance,  that  the  copy  of  such  a work,  not  anonymous, 
but  professing  to  have  been  wi’itten  by  the  greatest  and  most 
popular  genius  of  his  nation,  should,  during  two  centuries 
and  a half,  have  attracted  nobody’s  notice;  though,  during 
that  time,  it  must  have  travelled  from  Madrid  to  Lisbon  and 
from  Lisbon  back  again  to  Spain,  and  though,  during  the 


App.  D.] 


ON  THE  BUSCAPIE. 


409 


last  seventy  years,  a Buscapie  has  been  much  talked  about 
and  eagerly  asked  for. 

Nor  is  the  history  of  the  individual  manuscript  now  printed 
and  offered  to  us,  so  far  as  it  professes  to  have  a history, 
more  satisfactory.  It  claims  to  have  been  owned  by  three 
persons,  and  a word  must  be  said  about  each  of  them. 

First,  it  is  said  to  have  been  “ copied  from  another  copy  in 
the  year  1606,  at  Madrid,  on  the  27th  of  February  of  the  said 
year,  for  Senor  Agustin  de  Argote,  son  of  the  very  noble 
Senor  (may  he  be  in  holy  glory !)  Gonzalo  Zatieco  de  Molina, 
a knight  of  Seville.”  ^ Now,  that  Argote  Zatieco  de  Molina, 
a person  I have  often  had  occasion  to  mention,  (see,  ante,  Vol. 
I.  pp.  74,  75,  77,  117,  etc.,)  was,  as  this  certificate  sets  forth, 
dead  in  1606,  I have  no  doubt.  A manuscript  copy  of  his 
well-known  hints  for  the  history  of  Seville,  now  in  the  posses- 
sion of  one  of  my  friends,  contains  notices  and  documents 
relating  to  his  life,  collected,  apparently,  by  the  early  copyist, 
from  which  we  learn  that  Argote  de  Molina,  by  a deed  dated 
July  5,  1597,  left  to  his  daughter,  two  sisters,  and  a brother 
the  patronage  of  a chaplaincy  he  had  founded  in  a chapel 
prepared  by  him  for  his  burial-place  in  the  church  of  Santia- 
go, at  Seville;^  and  that  in  1600  this  chapel  was  completed, 
and  an  inscription  placed  in  it,  signifying  that  it  was  the 
burial-place  of  Argote  de  Molina,  late  a chief  of  the  Herman- 
dad,  and  a Veintequatro,  or  Regidor,  of  Seville;^  from  all 
which,  as  well  as  from  other  grounds,  it  appears  that  Argote 
de  Molina  died  between  1597  and  1600.  But  why  is  no  son 
of  his  mentioned  in  the  deed  of  1597,  providing  for  the  care 


1 “ Copiose  de  otra  copia  el  aiio  de 
1006,  en  Madrid,  27  de  Ebrero  afio 
dicho.  Para  el  Senor  Agustin  de 
Argote,  hijo  del  muy  noble  Senor  (que 
sancta  gloria  haya)  Gonzalo  Zatieco 
de  Molina,  un  Caballero  de  Sevilla.” 
Zatieco  occurs  elsewhere,  as  part  of 
the  name  of  Argote  de  Molina,  or  of 
his  family. 

2 “ En  otra  escritura  de  5 de  Julio 
de  1.597  deja  por  patronas  de  una  cape- 
llania  fundada  por  el  en  la  dicha  igle- 
sia  de  Santiago  a Dona  Francisca 
Argote  de  Molina  y Mexia,  su  hija,  y 

52 


despues  de  ella  a Dona  Isabel  de 
Argote  y a Doria  Geronima  de  Argote 
sus  hermanas,  y a sus  hijos  y descen- 
dientes,  y a Juan  Argote  de  Mexia  su 
hermano  y a sus  hijos,”  etc. 

3  “ En  dicha  Capilla  hay  una  in- 
scripcion  del  tenor  siguiente : Esta 
capilla  mayor  y entierro  es  de  Don 
Gonzalo  Argote  de  Molina,  Provin- 
cial de  la  Hermandad  del  Andalucia  y 
Veintequatro  que  fue  de  Sevilla,  y de 
sus  herederos.  Acabose  aho  de  1600.” 
He  purchased  this  privilege,  January 
28,  1586,  for  800  ducats. 

1 1 


VOL.  III. 


410 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  D 


of  liis  chapel  and  the  protection  of  his  family  burial-place  after 
his  own  death  ? This  is  explained  by  Ortiz  de  Zuniga,  the  very 
l)est  authority  on  such  a point,  who,  when  giving  an  account 
of  Argote  de  Molina  and  his  manuseripts,  some  of  which 
Zuniga  had  then  in  his  possession,  says  that  Argote  de  Mo- 
lina had  sons,  but  that  they  died  before  him,  and  that  their 
loss  so  embittered  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  that  his  reason 
was  impau-ed  by  itd  What,  then,  are  we  to  say  about  this 
“ Agustin,”  for  whom  Don  Adolfo’s  copy  of  the  Buscapie  is 
certified  to  have  been  made  in  1606,  after  the  death  of  his 
father,  Argote,  who  died  without  leaving  any  son  ? 

The  second  trace  of  this  manuscript  is,  that  it  professes  to 
have  been  a part  of  the  library  of  the  Duke  of  Lafoes  ; the  in- 
scription to  this  effect  being  in  Portuguese,  and  without  a 
date.®  But  is  it  liliely  that  such  a manuscript  could  have  re- 
mained in  such  a position  unnoticed?  Is  it  likely  that  Joao  de 
Braganza,  one  of  the  most  cultivated  and  distinguished  men 
of  his  time,  who  was  born  in  1719,  and  died  in  1806 ; who 
was  the  friend  of  the  Prince  de  Ligne,  of  Maria  Theresa,  and 
of  Frederic  the  Great ; who  founded  the  Academy  of  Lisbon, 
and  was  its  head  till  his  death ; in  whose  family  lived  Correa  de 
SeiTa,  and  who  every  evening  collected  the  chief  men  of  letters 
of  his  country  in  his  saloon, — is  it  likely  that  a work  avow- 
edly by  Cervantes,  and  one  concerning  which,  after  1780,  the 
Spanish  Academy  had  caused  much  inquiry  to  be  made, 
should  have  remained  in  the  library  of  such  a man  without 
attracting,  during  his  long  life,  either  his  own  notice  or  that 
of  the  scholars  by  whom  he  was  surrounded  ? Or,  finally,  as 
to  the  tlfird  and  last  presumed  possessor  of  tliis  manuscript 
of  the  Buscapie,  is  it  likely  that  it  would  have  wandered  on 
without  being  recognized  by  any  body  until  it  found  its  obscure 
way  into  the  collection  of  an  Andalusian  advocate, — Don  Pas- 

4 “ Tuvo  hijosque  le  precedieronen  Vanflora,  Hijos  de  Sevilla,  No.  11. 
muerte,  cuyo  sentimiento  hizo  infausto  p.  76,  says ; “ Murid  sin  dexar  hijos  ni 
p1  ultimo  termino  de  su  vida,  turban-  caudales  y con  algunas  seiias  de  de- 
do  su  juizio  que,  lleno  de  altivez,  le-  mente.” 

vantaba  sus  pensamientos  a majmr  5 “Ha  Livreria  do  Senhor  Duque 
fortuna.”  Anales  de  Sevilla,  fob,  de  Lafoes.” 

1677,  p.  706. 


App.  D.] 


ON  THE  BUSCAPII^. 


411 


pual  de  Gandara,  — and  that  even  he,  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, when  Navarrete  and  Clemencin  were  keeping  alive  the 
discussion  of  the  eighteenth  about  it,  should  yet  know  nothing 
of  its  import  or  pretensions,  or,  knowing  them,  should  with- 
hold his  knowledge  from  all  the  world  ? 

Thus  much  for  the  external  evidence,  the  whole  of  which, 
I believe,  I have  examined.  It  is,  as  it  seems  to  me,  very 
suspicious  and  unsatisfactory. 

Nor  can  the  internal  evidence  be  accounted  more  satisfac- 
tory than  the  external. 

In  the  first  place,  the  Buscapie  in  question  is  a closer  imi- 
tation of  Cervantes  than  he  would  be  filcely  to  make  of  him- 
self. It  opens  like  the  Prologo  to  the  “ Persiles  and  Sigis- 
munda,”  in  which  the  conversation  that  Cervantes  says  he 
held  with  a travelling  medical  student  seems  to  have  been 
the  model  for  the  one  he  is  represented  as  holding  with  the 
travelling  Bachelor  in  the  Buscapie ; — it  then  goes  on  with 
an  examination  of  one  or  two  contemporary  authors,  and 
allusions  to  others,  in  the  manner  of  the  scrutiny  of  Bon 
Quixote’s  library ; — and  it  ends  with  an  acknowledged  par- 
allel to  the  story  of  the  Yanguese  carriers  and  their  beasts ; 
different  parts  of  the  whole  reminding  us  of  different  works  of 
Cervantes,  but  of  the  “ Adjunta  al  Parnaso  ” oftener  than  of 
any  other.  In  many  cases,  phrases  seem  to  be  borrowed 
directly  from  Cervantes.  Thus,  of  an  author  praised  in  the 
Buscapie,  it  is  said,  “ Se  atreve  a competir  con  los  mas  famo- 
sos  de  Italia,”  (p.  20,)  which  is  nearly  the  phrase  applied  to 
Rufo,  Ercilla,  and  Virues  in  the  Don  Quixote.  In  another 
place,  (p.  22,)  Cervantes  is  made  to  say  of  himself,  when 
speaking  in  the  third  person  of  the  author  of  Don  Quixote, 

“ Su  autor  esta  mas  cargado  de  desdichas  que  de  ahos,”  which 
strongly  resembles  the  more  beautiful  phrase  he,  in  the  same 
M'ay,  applies  to  himself,  as  the  author  of  the  “ Galatea  ” ; and 
in  another  place,  (p.  10,)  the  little  Bachelor’s  shouts  to  his  mule 
are  said  to  be  as  much  wasted  “ as  if  they  were  tossed  into 
the  well  of  Airon,  or  the  pit  of  Cabra,”  — an  allusion  much 
more  appropriately  made  by  Cervantes  in  the  “ Adjunta  al 
Parnaso,”  where  mothers  are  advised  to  threaten  their  naugh- 


412 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  D. 


ty  children,  that  “ the  poet  shall  come  and  toss  them,  together 
with  his  bad  verses,  into  the  pit  of  Cabra,  or  the  well  of  Al- 
ton,” — natural  caves  in  the  kingdoms  of  Granada  and  Cor- 
dova, about  which  .strange  stories  were  long  credited.  (Sema- 
nario  Pintoresco,  1839,  p.  25;  Diccionario  de  la  Academia, 
1726,  in  verb.  Airon;  Don  Quixote,  ed.  Clemencin,  Tom.  IV. 
p.  237  ; and  Mihano,  Diccionario  Geografico.)  But  there  is  no 
need  of  citing  parallel  passages.  The  Buscapie  is  full  of 
them ; some  being  happily  chosen  and  aptly  adjusted  to  their 
new  places,  hke  three  allusions  to  the  words  of  Cervantes  in 
Don  Quixote  about  “ driving  books  of  chivalry  out  of  the 
world,”  (see,  ante.,  Vol.  II.  p.  105,  note,)  and  others,  like  those 
I have  just  cited,  being  awkwardly  introduced,  and  fitting 
their  subjects  less  well  than  they  did  those  to  which  they 
were  originally  applied.  But  whether  well  or  ill  selected, 
whether  well  or  iU  applied,  these  phrases  in  the  Buscapie 
have  seldom  or  never  the  appearance  of  accidental  coinci- 
dences arising  out  of  the  carelessness  of  an  author  repeating 
from  himself.  They  seem  rather  to  be  words  and  forms  of 
expression  carefully  selected,  and  are  so  used  as  to  give  an  air 
of  constraint  to  the  passages  where  they  occur,  showing  that 
the  writer  turns,  as  it  were,  in  a narrow  circle ; — an  air  as 
unlike  as  possible  to  the  bold  and  unfettered  movement  which 
is  so  eminently  characteristic  of  Cervantes. 

In  the  next  place,  the  Buscapie  contains  many  allusions  to 
obscure  authors  and  long-forgotten  trifles ; but,  with  an  incon- 
siderable exception,  which  seems  to  be  a little  ostentatiously 
announced  as  such,  (p.  12,  and  note  B,)  not  one,  I believe,  oc- 
curs, that  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the  singular  learning  of  Don 
Adolfo,  whose  ample  notes,  fitting  with  suspicious  exactness 
to  the  text,  drive  the  reader  to  the  conjecture,  that  the  text 
may  have  been  adjusted  to  the  notes  quite  as  much  as  the 
notes  to  the  text.  Now  and  then,  this  conjecture  seems  to  be 
confirmed  by  a slight  inaccuracy.  Thus,  in  both  text  and 
notes,  the  name  of  Pedro  de  Ewzinas  — whose  poetry  is  cited 
and  examined  just  as  I find  it  in  my  copy  of  the  “ Versos  Es- 
pirituales,”  printed  at  Cuenca,  in  1596  (see,  ante,  Vol.  III.  p.  13, 
note)  — is  uniformly  spelt  many  times  over  Ezinas,  that  is,  with- 


App.  D.J 


ON  THE  BUSCAPifi. 


413 


out  the  first  w,  (Buscapie,  pp.  19-21,  and  note  I,)  — a trifling 
mistake,  which  a copyist  might  easily  have  made  in  1606, 
or  which  Don  Adolfo  might  have  easily  made  in  1847,  when 
transcribing,  as  he  did,  from  the  printed  book  before  him,  but 
a mistake  which  there  is  not  one  chance  in  a thousand  that 
both  should  have  made,  if  there  were  no  other  connection  be- 
tween the  two  than  the  one  avowed.  And,  again,  a little  far- 
ther on,  a mistake  occurs  which  seems  to  have  arisen  from  the 
very  excess  of  Don  Adolfo’s  recondite  learning.  The  old  Cas- 
tilian proverb,  “ A1  buen  callar  Uaman  sag-c,”  — or,  “ He  is  a 
wise  man  that  knows  when  to  hold  his  tongue,” — is  found  in 
the  text  of  the  Buscapie,  (p.  26,)  and  Don  Adolfo  in  the 
note  on  it  (L)  informs  us,  that,  “in  the  same  way  in  which 
this  proverb  is  here  used  by  Cervantes,  it  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
Conde  Lucanor,®  and  in  other  older  works.  Somebody  cor- 
rupted it  into  ‘ A1  buen  callar  Uaman  Sancho.’’  ” But  the  idea, 
that  Cervantes  adhered  to  an  old  form  of  the  proverb,  because 
he  rejected  or  did  not  know  the  supposed  coiTupt  one,  is  not 
weU  founded.  The  proverb  occm’S,  in  what  Don  Adolfo  con- 
siders a coiTupted  form,  as  early  as  the  “ Cartas  de  Garay,”  in 
1553,  and  the  coUection  of  Proverbs  by  the  learned  Hernan 
Nunez,  in  1555,  and  in  this  very  form  it  is,  in  fact,  used  by 
Cervantes  himself  (Don  Quixote,  Parte  II.  c.  43) ; for  when 
Sancho  Panza  is  rebuked  by  his  master  for  stringing  together 
proverbs  without  end,  he  first  promises  he  wiU  not  utter  an- 
other, and  then  instantly  opens  his  mouth  'with  this  one.  In- 
deed, I rather  think  that  the  word  sage,  which  was  in  use  as 
late  as  the  time  of  Juan  de  Mena,  had  dropped  out  of  the  cur- 
rent language  of  good  society  before  that  of  Cervantes.  Ne- 
brixa,  before  1500,  says  it  was  then  antiquated.  (See  Diccio- 
nario  de  la  Academia,  1739.) 

The  last  suggestion  I have  to  make  in  relation  to  the  genu- 
ineness of  the  Buscapie  published  by  Don  Adolfo  de  Castro 

6 I suspect  Don  Adolfo  may  have  any  form  in  any  one  of  the  tales, 
made  another  little  mistake  here  ; for  I Sometimes  it  occurs  in  later  authors 
have  had  occasion,  since  I read  his  in  another  form,  thus : “ A1  buen 

note,  to  read  the  “ Conde  Lucanor,”  callar  Hainan  santo  ” ; or,  “He  who 
and,  though  I kept  his  criticism  in  knows  when  to  hold  his  tongue  is  a 
mind,  I did  not  notice  the  proverb  in  saint.”  But  this  is  rare. 


414 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  D. 


is,  that,  though  on  its  title-page  it  professes  to  explain  “ aU  the 
liidden  and  unexplained  things  ” in  the  Don  Quixote,  it  does 
not,  in  fact,  even  allude  to  one  such ; and  though  it  professes 
to  have  been  written  by  Cervantes  in  order  to  defend  himself 
against  certain  learned  adversaries,  it  does  not  cite  any  one  of 
them,  and  only  defends  him  in  a light,  jesting  tone  against 
the  charge  of  the  little  Bachelor  by  admitting  its  truth,  and 
then  justifying  it,  on  the  ground  that  knight-errantry  is 
still  flom-ishing  and  vigorous  in  Spain,  — a charge  which  no 
sensible  or  learned  man  can  be  supposed  to  have  made,  and 
a defence  which  is  humorous,  so  far  as  it  is  so  at  all,  only 
for  its  absurdity. 

Other  things  might  be  mentioned,  such  as  that  Cervantes, 
in  the  Buscapie,  is  made  to  speak  in  a disparaging  way  of  Al- 
cala de  Henares,  his  native  place,  (pp.  13  and  41,)  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  {anlej  Vol.  II.  p.  53,)  he  delighted  to  honor;  and 
that  he  is  made  to  represent  Ms  imaginary  Bachelor  as  talking 
about  his  own  painful  personal  deformities,  (pp.  24,  25,  28,  29,) 
and  his  father’s  contemptible  poltroonery,  (pp.  27,  28,  34,)  in 
a way  inconsistent  with  the  tact  and  knowledge  of  human 
nature  which  are  among  the  strongest  characteristics  of  the 
author  of  Don  Quixote. 

But  I will  go  no  farther.  The  Little  tract  published  by  Don 
Adolfo  de  Castro  is,  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  coarse 
passages,”^  a jdeasant,  witty  trifle.  It  shows  in  many  parts 
much  lively  talent,  a remarkable  familiarity  with  the  works  of 
Cervantes,  and  a hardly  less  remarkable  familiarity  with  the 
literature  of  the  period  when  Cervantes  lived.  If  Dorr  Adolfo 
wrote  it,  he  has  probably  always  intended,  in  due  time,  to 
claim  it  as  his  own,  and  he  may  be  assured  that,  by  so  doing, 
he  wfll  add  something  to  his  own  literary  laurels  without  tak- 
ing any  thing  from  those  of  Cervantes.  If  he  did  rrot  write 

it,  then  he  has,  I think,  been  deceived  in  regard  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  manuscript,  which  he  purchased  under  circumstarrees 

^ They  are,  I believe,  all  omitted  by  “ A Member  of  the  University  of 
in  the  translation  of  Miss  Thomasina  Cambridge,”  published  at  Cambridge, 
Ross,  which  appeared  in  Bentley’s  1849,  with  judicious  notes,  partly 
Magazine,  (London,  August  and  Sep-  original  and  partly  abridged  from 
tember,  1848.)  and  in  the  translation  those  of  Don  Adolfo  de  Castro. 


App.  D.] 


ON  THE  BUSCAPIE. 


415 


that  made  him  believe  it  to  be  what  it  is  not.  In  any  event, 
I find  no  sufficient  proof  that  it  was  written  by  Cervantes,  and 
therefore  no  sufficient  ground  to  think  that  it  can  be  placed 
permanently  under  the  protection  of  his  gi’eat  name. 


APPENDIX,  E. 


ON  THE  DIFFERENT  EDITIONS,  TRANSLATIONS,  AND 
IMITATIONS  OF  THE  “DON  QUIXOTE.” 

(See  Vol.  H.  p.  108,  note,  and  p.  112,  note.) 

Whatever  relates  to  the  “Don  Quixote”  of  Cervantes  is  so 
interesting,  that  I will  add  here  such  an  account  of  its  differ- 
ent editions,  translations,  and  imitations  as  may  serve,  in  some 
degree,  to  give  the  just  measure  of  its  extraordinary  popular- 
ity, not  only  in  Spain,  but  all  over  Christendom. 

The  first  edition  of  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  of  which 
I have  a copy,  was  printed  with  this  title : “ El  Ingenioso  Hi- 
dalgo, Don  Quixote  de  la  Mancha,  compuesto  por  Miguel  de 
Cervantes  Saavedi-a,  dirigido  al  Duque  de  Bejar,  Marques  de 
Gibraleon,  etc.  Aho  1605.  Con  Privilegio,  etc.  En  Machld, 
por  Juan  de  la  Cuesta,”  4to,  in  one  volume.  Three  editions 
more  appeared  in  the  same  year,  namely,  one  at  Madrid,  one 
at  Lisbon,  and  the  other  at  Valencia.  These,  with  another 
at  Brussels,  in  1607, — five  in  all, — are  the  only  editions  that 
appeared,  till  he  took  it  in  hand  to  correct  some  of  its  errors. 
But  he  did  this,  as  I have  intimated,  very  imperfectly  and  care- 
lessly. Among  other  changes,  he  did  away  with  the  division 
of  the  volume  into  four  parts  or  books,  but  did  not  take  the 
trouble  to  remove  from  the  text  the  proofs  of  such  a division, 
as  may  be  seen  at  the  end  of  Chapters  VIII.,  XIV.,  and 
XXVIL,  where  the  work  was  divided,  and  where,  in  aU  our 
editions,  the  proofs  of  it  stiff  remain.  Such  coiTections,  how- 
ever, as  he  saw  fit  to  make,  with  sometimes  a different  spelling 


App.  E.] 


EDITIONS  OF  THE  DON  QUIXOTE. 


417 


of  words,  appeared  in  the  Madrid  edition  of  1608,  4to ; of 
which  I have  a copy.  This  edition,  though  somewhat  better 
than  the  first,  is  yet  ordinary ; but,  as  the  one  containing 
Cervantes’s  only  amendments  of  the  text,  it  is  more  valued 
and  sought  after  than  any  other,  and  is  the  basis  on  which 
all  the  good  impressions  since  have  been  founded.  After  this, 
an  edition  at  Milan,  1610,  and  one  at  Brussels,  1611,  are 
known  to  have  been  printed  before  the  appearance  of  the  Sec- 
ond Part,  in  1615.  *So  that,  in  nine  or  ten  years,  there  were 
eight  editions  of  the  First  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  implying  a 
circulation  greater  than  that  of  the  works  of  Shakspeare  or 
Milton,  Racine  or  Mohere,  who,  as  of  the  same  century,  may 
be  fitly  compared  with  him. 

The  first  edition  of  the  Second  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  which, 
like  the  first  edition  of  the  First  Part,  is  poorly  printed,  is  en- 
titled, “ Segunda  Parte  del  Ingenioso  Hidalgo  Don  Quixote 
de  la  Mancha,  por  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedi-a,  aiitor  de  sn 
Primera  Parte,  dhigida  a Don  Pedro  Fernandez  de  Castro, 
Conde  de  Lemos,  etc.  Aho  1615.  Con  PrivUegio,  en  Madrid, 
por  Juan  de  la  Cuesta,”  4to.  It  was  printed  separately,  Valen- 
cia, 1616  ; Brussels,  1616  ; Barcelona,  1617 ; and  Lisbon,  1617  ; 
after  which  no  separate  edition  is  known  to  have  appeared.^ 

Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  eight  editions  of  the  Fust  Part  were 
printed  in  ten  years,  and  five  of  the  Second  Part  in  two  years. 
Both  parts  appeared  together  at  Barcelona  in  1617,  in  two  vol- 
umes, duodecimo  ; and  from  this  period  the  number  of  editions 
has  been  very  great,  both  in  Spain  and  in  foreign  countries ; 
nearly  fifty  of  them  being  of  some  consequence.  Only  five, 
however,  need  to  be  here  particularly  noted.  These  are,  — 1. 
Tonson’s  edition,  (London,  1738, 4 vols.,  4to,)  pubhshed  at  the 
instance  of  Lord  Carteret,  in  compliment  to  the  queen,  and 
containing  the  Life  by  Mayans  y Siscar,  already  noticed ; the 

1 It  is  curious,  that  the  Index  Ex-  lines  are  carefully  cancelled  in  my 
purgatorius  of  1667,  p.  794,  and  that  copy  of  the  first  edition.  Cervantes, 
of  i790,  p.  51,  direct  two  lines  to  be  therefore,  did  not,  after  all,  stand  on 
struck  out  from  c.  36,  but  touch  no  so  safe  ground  as  he  thought  he  did, 
other  part  of  the  work.  The  two  when,  in  c.  20  of  the  same  Part,  he 
lines  signify  that  “ works  of  charity  says  his  Don  Quixote  “ does  not  con- 
performed  in  a lukewarm  spirit  have  tain  even  a thought  that  is  not  strictly 
no  merit  and  avail  nothing.’’  These  Catholic.” 

53 


VOL.  III. 


418  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [App.  E. 

first  attempt  either  to  edit  Don  Quixote  or  to  write  its  au- 
thor’s life  with  care.  2.  The  magnificent  edition  printed  by 
the  Spanish  Academy,  (Madidd,  1780,  4 tom.,  folio,)  in  which 
the  text  is  settled  with  some'sldll,  a few  notes  are  added,  and 
the  Life  of  Cervantes  and  an  Analysis,  or  rather  an  extravagant 
eulogy  and  defence,  of  the  Don  Quixote,  by  Don  Vicente  de 
I os  Rios,  prefixed.  It  has  been  several  times  reprinted,  though 
jiot  without  expressions  of  disapprobation,  especially  at  the 
indiscriminate  admiration  of  Los  Rios, 'who  found,  among 
other  opponents,  a very  resolute  one  in  a Spaniard  by  the 
name  of  Valentine  Foronda,  who,  in  1807,  printed  in  London 
a thin  octavo  volume  of  very  captious  notes  on  Don  Quixote, 
written  in  the  form  of  letters,  between  1793  and  1799,  and 
entitled  “ Observaciones  sobre  Algunos  Puntos  de  la  Obra  de 
Don  Quixote,  por  T.  E.”  Clemencin  gives  the  name  of  the 
author,  who  is  otherwise  unknown  to  me.  (Ed.  Don  Quixote, 
Tom.  I.  p.  305.)  3.  The  extraordinary  edition  published  in  two 

volumes,  quarto,  at  Salisbury,  in  England,  in  1781,  and  accom- 
panied by  a third  volume,  consisting  of  notes  and  verbal  index- 
es, aU  in  Spanish,  by  the  Rev.  John  Bowie,  a clergyman  in  a 
small  village  near  Salisbury,  who  gave  fourteen  years  of  unwea- 
ried labor  to  prepare  it  for  the  press ; studying,  as  the  basis  of 
his  system  of  annotation,  the  old  Spanish  and  Italian  authors, 
and  especially  the  old  Spanish  baUad-books  and  books  of 
chivalry,  and  concluding  his  task,  or  at  least  dating  his  Pref- 
aces and  Dedication,  on  the  23d  of  April,  the  anniversai-y  of 
Cervantes’s  death.  There  are  few  books  of  so  much  real  learn- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  of  so  little  pretension,  as  the  third 
volume  of  this  edition.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  true  and  safe  foun- 
dation on  which  has  been  built  much  of  what  has  since  been 
done  with  success  for  the  explanation  and  illustration  of  the 
Don  Quixote,  which  thus  owes  more  to  Bowie  than  to  any  oth- 
er of  its  editors,  except  Clemencin.  4.  The  edition  of  Juan  An- 
tonio PeUicer,  (Madrid,  1797-98,  5 tom.,  8vo,)  an  Aragonese 
gentleman,  who  employed  above  twenty  years  in  preparing  it. 
(Latassa,  Bib.  Nov.,  Tom.  VI.  p.  319.)  The  notes  to  this  edi- 
tion contain  a good  deal  of  cmlous  matter,  but  this  matter  is 
often  irrelevant ; the  number  of  the  notes  is  small,  and  they  ex- 


App.  E.]  translations  of  the  don  QUIXOTE. 


419 


plain  only  a small  part  of  the  difficulties  that  occm*  in  the  text. 
It  should  be  observed,  too,  that  PeUicer  is  indebted  to  Bowie 
further  than  he  acknowledges,  and  that  he  now  and  then 
makes  mistakes  on  points  of  fact.  5.  The  edition  of  Diego 
Clemencin,  (Machid,  1833-39,  6 tom.,  4to,)  one  of  the  most 
complete  commentaries  that  has  been  published  on  any  au- 
thor, ancient  or  modern.  It  is  wi'itten,  too,  with  taste  and 
judgment  in  nearly  aU  that  relates  to  the  merits  of  the  author, 
and  is  free  from  the  blind  admiration  for  Cervantes  which 
marks  Vicente  de  los  Rios  and  the  edition  of  the  Academy. 
Its  chief  fault  is,  that  there  is  too  much  of  it ; but  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  rare  to  find  an  obscure  point  which  it  does 
not  elucidate.  The  system  of  Clemencin  is  the  one  laid  down 
by  Bowie ; and  the  conscientious  learning  with  which  it  is 
carried  out  seems  really  to  leave  little  to  be  desired  in  the 
way  of  notes. 

In  other  countries  the  Don  Quixote  is  hardly  less  known 
than  it  is  in  Spain.  Down  to  the  year  1700,  it  is  cmlous  to 
observe,  that  as  many  editions  of  the  entire  work  were  printed 
abroad  as  at  home,  and  the  succession  of  ti’anslations  from  the 
first  has  been  uninteiTupted.  The  oldest  Freneh  ti-anslation  is 
of  1620,  since  which  there  have  been  six  or  seven  others,  in- 
cluding the  poor  one  of  Florian,  1799,  which  has  been  the 
most  read,  and  the  very  good  one  of  Louis  Viardot,  (Paris, 
1836  - 38,  2 tom.,  8vo,)  with  the  admirable  illustrations  of 
Granville,  — a translation,  however,  which  has  been  some- 
what roughly  handled  by  F.  B.  F.  Biedermann,  in  a tract  en- 
titled “Don  Quixote  et  la  Tache  de  ses  Tradueteurs”  (Paris, 
1837,  8vo).  The  oldest  English  one  is  by  Shelton,  1612-20, 
the  fii'st  half  of  which  was  made,  as  he  says  in  the  Dedication, 
in  forty  days,  some  years  before,  and  which  was  followed  by  a 
very  vulgar,  unfaithful,  and  coarse  one  by  John  Philips,  the 
nephew  of  Milton,  1687 ; one  by  Motteux,  1712 ; one  by  Jarvis, 
1742,  which  SmoUet  used  too  freely  in  his  own,  1755 ; one 
by  Wilmot,  1774 ; and,  finally,  the  anonymous  one  of  1818, 
which  has  adopted  parts  of  all  its  predecessors.  Most  of  them 
have  been  reprinted  often ; and,  on  the  whole,  the  most  agree- 
able and  the  best,  though  certainly  somewhat  too  free,  is 


420 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  E 


that  of  Motteux,  in  the  edition  of  Edinburgh,  1822,  (5  vols., 
l2mo,)  with  notes  and  illustrative  translations,  full  of  spirit  and 
gi'aee,  by  Mi'.  J.  G.  Loekhart.  No  foreign  country  has  done 
so  much  for  Cervantes  and  Don  Quixote  as  England,  both  by 
original  editions,  published  there,  and  by  translations.  It 
may  be  noticed  further,  that,  in  1654,  Edmund  Gay  ton,  a gay 
fellow  about  town,  of  whom  Wood  gives  no  very  dignified 
account,  published  in  London  a small  folio  volume,  entitled 
“ Pleasant  Notes  upon  Don  Quixote,”  the  best  of  its  author’s 
various  works,  and  one  that  was  thought  worth  publishing 
again  in  the  next  century,  for  the  sake,  I suppose,  of  the 
amusing  vein  in  which  it  is  written,  but  not  on  account  of 
any  thing  it  contains  that  will  serve  to  explain  difficult  or  ob- 
scure passages  in  the  original.  Some  of  it  is  in  verse,  and  the 
whole  is  based  on  Shelton’s  ti'anslation. 

All  countries,  however,  have  sought  the  means  of  enjoying 
the  Don  Quixote,  for  there  are  translations  in  Latin,  Italian, 
Dutch,  Danish,  Russian,  Polish,  and  Portuguese.  But  better 
than  any  of  these  is,  probably,  the  admirable  one  made  into 
German  by  Ludwig  Tieck,  with  extraordinary  freedom  and 
spirit,  and  a most  genial  comprehension  of  his  author;  four 
editions  of  which  appeared  between  1815  and  1831,  and  su- 
perseded all  the  other  German  versions,  of  which  there  are 
five,  beginning  with  an  imperfect  attempt  in  1669.  It  ought, 
perhaps,  to  be  added,  that,  in  the  course  of  the  last  haif-cen- 
tury,  more  editions  of  the  original  have  appeared  in  Germany 
than  in  any  other  foreign  country. 

Of  imitations  out  of  Spain,  it  is  only  necessary  to  allude 
to  three.  The  first  is  a “ Life  of  Don  Quixote,  merrily  trans- 
lated into  Hudibrastic  Verse,  by  Edward  Ward,”  (London, 
1711,  2 vols.,  8vo,)  — a poor  attempt,  full  of  coarse  jests 
not  found  in  the  original.  The  second  is  “ Don  Silvio  de  Ro- 
salva,”  by  Wieland,  (1764,  2 vols.,)  in  ridicule  of  a belief  in 
fairies  and  unseen  agencies ; — his  first  work  in  romantic- 
fiction,  and  one  that  never  had  much  success.  The  third  is 
a curious  poem,  in  twelve  cantos,  by  Meli,  the  best  of  the 
Sicilian  poets,  who,  in  his  native  dialect,  has  endeavoured  to 
tell  the  story  of  Don  Quixote  in  octave  stanzas,  with  the 


App.  E.] 


IMITATIONS  OF  THE  DON  QUIXOTE. 


421 


heroi-comic  lightness  of  Ariosto ; but,  among  other  unhappi- 
nesses, has  cumbered  Sancho  with  Greek  mythology  and 
ancient  learning.  It  fills  the  thud  and  fourth  volumes  of 
Meli’s  “ Poesie  Siciliane”  (Palermo,  1787,  5 vols.,  12mo). 
All  these,  as  well  as  SmoUet’s  “Sir  Launcelot  Graves”  and 
Mrs.  Lenox’s  “ Female  Quixote,”  both  published  in  1762,  are 
direct  imitations  of  the  Don  Quixote,  and  on  that  account,  in 
part,  they  are  all  failures.  Butler’s  “ Hudibras,”  (first  edition, 
1663  - 78,)  so  free  and  so  full  of  wit,  comes,  perhaps,  as  near 
its  model  as  genius  may  ventm-e  with  success. 

Don  Quixote  has  often  been  produced  on  the  stage  in 
Spain ; as,  for  instance,  in  a play  by  Francisco  de  Avila,  pub- 
lished at  Barcelona,  in  1617 ; in  two  by  Guillen  de  Castm, 
1621 ; in  one  by  Calderon,  that  is  lost ; and  in  others  by  Go- 
mez Labrador,  Francisco  Marti,  Valladares,  Melendez  Valdes, 
and,  more  lately,  Ventrua  de  la  Vega;  some  of  which  were 
noticed  when  we  spoke  of  the  drama.  But  aU  of  them  were 
failures.  (Don  Quixote,  ed.  Clemencin,  Tom.  IV.,  1835,  p. 
399,  note.) 

As  to  prose  imitations  in  Spain,  except  the  attempt  of 
Avellaneda,  in  1614,  I know  of  none  for  above  a centmy ; — 
none,  indeed,  till  the  popularity  of  the  original  work  was  re- 
vived. But  since  that  period,  there  have  been  several.  One 
is  by  Christoval  Anzarena,  — “ Empressas  Literarias  del  inge- 
niosissimo  CavaUero,  Don  Quixote  de  la  Manchuela,”  (Sevilla, 
12mo,  without  the  year,  but  printed  about  1767,)  — intended 
to  ridicule  the  literary  taste  of  the  times,  wluch,  after  going 
through  the  education  of  the  hero,  breaks  off  with  the  prom- 
ise of  a second  part,  that  never  appeared.  Another  is  called 
“ Adiciones  a Don  Quixote,  por  Jacinto  Maria  Delgado,” 
(Madrid,  12mo,  s.  a.,)  printed  apparently  soon  after  the  last, 
and  containing  the  remainder  of  Sancho’s  life,  passed  chiefly 
with  the  Duke  and  Duchess  in  Aragon,  where,  at  a very  small 
expense  of  wit,  he  is  fooled  into  the  idea  that  he  is  a baron. 
Another,  by  Alonso  Bernardo  Ribero  y Sarrea,  called  “ El 
Quixote  de  la  Cantabria,”  (Madrid,  1792,  2 tom.,  12mo,)  de- 
scribes the  travels  of  a certain  Don  Pelayo  to  Madrid,  and  his 
residence  at  court  tliere,  whence  he  returns  to  his  native  moun- 


422 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[App.  E. 


tains,  astonished  and  shocked  that  the  Biscayans  are  not 
everywhere  regarded  as  the  only  ti-ue  nobility  and  gentlemen 
on  earth,  A fourth,  “ Historia  de  Sancho  Panza,”  (Madrid, 
1793  - 98,  2 tom.,  12mo,)  is  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  give 
effect  to  Sancho  as  a separate  and  independent  person  after 
Don  Quixote’s  death,  making  him  Alcalde  of  his  native  vil- 
lage, and  sending  liim  to  figm’e  in  the  capital  and  get  into 
prison  there ; — the  whole  bringing  the  poor  esquue’s  adven- 
tures down  to  a very  grave  ending  of  liis  very  merry  life.  And 
a fifth,  by  Juan  Sineriz,  “ El  Quixote  del  Siglo  XVIII.,”  (Ma- 
drid, 1836,  4 tom.,  12mo,)  is  an  account  of  a French  philoso- 
pher, who,  with  his  esquue,  travels  over  the  earth  to  regener- 
ate mankind;  and,  coming  back  just  at  the  close  of  the  French 
Revolution,  wliich  happened  wMle  he  was  in  Asia,  is  cm’ed,  by 
the  results  of  that  great  convulsion,  of,  his  philosophical  no- 
tions ; a duU,  coarse  book,  whose  style  is  as  httle  attractive 
as  its  story.  Perhaps  there  are  other  Spanish  imitations  of 
Don  Quixote ; but  there  can  be  none,  I apprehend,  of  any 
merit  or  value, 

AH  this  account,  however,  incomplete  as  it  is,  of  the  differ- 
ent editions,  translations,  and  imitations  which,  for  above 
two  centuries,  have  been  pom'ed  out  upon  the  different  coun- 
tries of  Em'ope,  gives,  still,  but  an  imperfect  measure  of  the 
kind  and  degree  of  success  which  this  exti'aordinary  work  has 
enjoyed ; for  there  are  thousands  and  thousands  who  never 
have  read  it,  and  who  never  have  heard  of  Cervantes,  to 
whom,  nevertheless,  the  names  of  Don  Quixote  and  of  San- 
cho are  as  familiar  as  household  words.  So  much  of  this 
kind  of  fame  is  enjoyed,  probably,  by  no  other  author  of 
modern  times. 


APPENDIX,  F. 


ON  THE  EARLY  COLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  SPANISH  PLAYS. 

(See  Yol.  11.  p.  429.) 

Two  large  collections  of  plays,  and  several  small  ones,  much 
resembling  each  other,  both  in  the  character  of  their  contents 
and  the  form  of  then’  publication,  appeared  in  different  parts 
of  Spain  during  the  seventeenth  century,  just  as  the  ballads 
had  appeared  a century  before ; and  they  should  be  noticed 
with  some  care,  because  they  exhibit  the  peculiar  physiogno- 
my of  the  Spanish  national  drama  with  much  distinctness, 
and  fm-nish  materials  of  consequence  for  its  history. 

Of  the  first  collection,  whose  prevailing  title  seems  to  have 
been  “ Comedias  de  Diferentes  Autores,”  it  would,  I suppose, 
be  impossible  now  to  form  a complete  set,  or  one  even  ap- 
proaching to  completeness.  I possess  only  three  volumes  of 
it,  and  have  seen  satisfactory  notices  of  only  two  more.  The 
first  of  the  five  is  the  twenty-fifth  volume  of  the  collection 
itself,  and  was  printed  at  Saragossa,  in  1633,  by  Pedi-o  Escuer. 
As  is  usual  with  such  volumes  of  the  old  Spanish  dramatists, 
it  is  in  small  quarto  and  contains  twelve  plays,  seven  of 
which  are  attributed  to  Montalvan,  then  at  the  height  of  his 
success  as  a living  author,  and  one  to  Calderon,  who  was  just 
rising  to  his  great  fame ; but  one  of  the  seven  plays  of  Mon- 
talvan belongs  to  his  master,  Lope  de  Vega,  and  the  only  one 
taken  from  Calderon  is  printed  from  a text  grossly  corrupted. 
The  twenty-ninth  volume  was  printed  at  Valencia,  in  1636, 
and  the  thhty-second  at  Saragossa,  in  1640 ; but  I have 
seen  neither  of  them.  In  the  thirty-first,  printed  at  Barcelona, 


424  HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE.  [App.  F 

ill  1638,  all  Ihe  twelve  plays  are  given  without  the  names  of 
their  authors,  though  the  persons  who  wrote  most  of  them  are 
still  known ; and  the  forty-third  volume  was  printed  at  Sara- 
gossa, in  1650,  containing  plays  by  Calderon,  Moreto,  and 
Solis,  \idth  enough  by  more  obscure  authors  to  make  up  the 
regular  number  of  twelve.  It  is  no  doubt  singular,  that,  of  a 
collection  Uke  this,  extending  to  at  least  forty-three  volumes, 
so  little  should  now  be  known.  But  such  is  the  fact.  The 
Inquisition  and  the  confessional  were  very  busy  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  when,  under  the  imbecile 
Charles  the  Second,  the  theatre  had  fallen  from  its  liigh  estate ; 
and  in  this  way  the  oldest  large  collection  of  plays  pubhshed 
in  Spain,  and  the  one  we  should  now  be  most  desirous  to  pos- 
sess, was  hunted  down  and  nearly  exterminated. 

The  next,  which  is  the  collection  commonly  known  under 
the  title  of  “ Comedias  Nuevas  Escogidas  de  los  Mejores  Au- 
tores,”  — a title  by  no  means  strictly  adhered  to  in  its  succes- 
sive volumes,  — was  more  fortunate.  StUl  it  is  very  rare. 
I have  never  seen  a set  of  it  absolutely  complete ; but  I pos- 
sess in  all  forty-one  volumes  out  of  the  forty-eight,  of  which 
such  a set,  should  consist,  and  have  sufficiently  accm-ate  no- 
tices of  the  remaining  seven. 

The  first  of  these  volumes  was  published  in  1652,  the  last  in 
1704 ; but,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  period  embraced  between 
these  dates,  the  theatre  so  declined,  that,  though  at  first  two  or 
tliree  volumes  came  out  every  year,  none  was  issued  dming 
the  twenty-tlnee  years  that  followed  the  death  of  Calderon  in 
1681,  except  the  very  last  in  the  collection,  the  forty-eighth. 
Taken  together,  they  contain  five  hundred  and  seventy-fom’ 
comedias^  in  all  the  forms  and  with  all  the  characteristics  of 
the  old  Spanish  drama ; their  appropriate  loas  and  entremeses 
being  connected  with  a very  small  number  of  them.  Tliirty- 
seven  of  these  comedias  are  given  as  anonymous,  and  the  re- 
maining five  hundred  and  thirty-seven  are  distributed  among 
one  hunch-ed  and  thirty-eight  different  authors. 

The  distribution,  however,  as  might  be  anticipated,  is  very 
unequal.  . Calderon,  who  was  far  the  most  successful  waiter 
of  the  period  he  illustrated,  has  fifty-three  plays  assigned  to 


App.  F.]  collections  of  old  SPANISH  PLAYS. 


425 


him,  in  whole  or  in  part,  of  which  it  is  certain  not  one  was 
printed  with  his  permission,  and  not  one,  so  far  as  I have 
compared  them  with  the  authentic  editions  of  his  works,  from 
a text  properly  corrected.  Moreto,  the  dramatic  writer  next  in 
popularity  after  Calderon,  has  forty-six  pieces  given  to  him  iir 
the  same  way ; aU  probably  without  his  assent,  since  he  re- 
nounced the  stage  as  sinful,  and  retired  to  a monastery  in  1657. 
Matos  Fragoso,  who  was  a little  later,  has  thirty-three ; Fer- 
nando de  Zarate,  twenty-two ; Antonio  Martiirez,  eighteen ; 
Mira  de  Mescua,  eighteen ; Zavaleta,  sixteen ; Roxas,  sixteen ; 
Luis  Velez  de  Guevara,  fifteen  ; Cancer,  fomieen  ; Solis, 
twelve;  Lope  de  Vega,  twelve;  Diamante,  twelve;  Pedro  de 
Rosete,  eleven  ; Belmonte,  eleven ; and  Francisco  de  Villegas, 
eleven.  Many  others  have  smaller  numbers  assigned  to  them ; 
and  sixty-nine  authors,  nearly  aU  of  whose  names  are  other- 
wise unknown,  and  some  of  them,  probably,  not  genuine, 
have  but  one  each. 

That  the  dramas  in  this  collection  all  belong  to  the  authors 
to  whom  it  ascribes  them,  or  that  it  is  even  so  far  accurate  in 
its  designations  as  to  be  taken  for  a sufficient  general  author- 
ity, is  not  for  a moment  to  be  supposed.  Thirteen  at  least  of 
the  plays  it  contains,  that  bear  the  name  of  Calderon,  are  not 
his ; one  known  to  be  his,  “ La  Banda  y la  Flor,”  is  print- 
ed as  anonymous  in  the  thhtieth  volume,  with  the  title  of 
“Hazer  del  Amor  Agravio”;  and  another,  “Amigo  Amante 
y Leal,”  is  twice  inserted,  — once  in  the  fourth  volume,  1653, 
and  once  in  the  eighteenth  volume,  1662,  — each  differing  con- 
siderably from  the  other,  and  neither  taken  from  a genuine 
text. 

Of  its  carelessness  in  relation  to  other  authors  similar  re- 
marks might  be  made.  Several  of  the  plays  of  Soils  are 
printed  twice,  and  one  three  times ; and  in  two  successive 
volumes,  the  twenty-fifth  and  twenty-sixth,  we  have  the 
“ Lorenzo  me  Uamo  ” of  Matos  Fragoso,  a well-known  and, 
in  its  time,  a popular  play.  On  all  accounts,  therefore,  this 
collection,  like  its  predecessor,  is  to  be  regarded  as  a mere 
bookseller’s  speculation,  carried  on  without  the  consent  of  the 
authors  whose  works  were  plundered  for  the  piupose,  and 

54  j J* 


VOL.  III. 


426 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Apr.  F. 


sometimes,  as  we  know,  in  disregard  of  their  complaints  and 
remonstrances.  How  recklessly  and  scandalously  this  was 
done  may  be  gathered  from  the  facts  abeady  stated,  and  from 
the  further  one,  that  the  “ Vencimiento  de  Turno,”  in  the 
twelfth  volume,  which  is  boldly  ascribed  to  Calderon  on  its 
title,  is  yet  given  to  its  time  author,  Manuel  del  Campo,  in 
the  very  lines  with  which  it  is  ended. 

Still,  these  large  collections,  with  the  single  volumes  that, 
from  time  to  time,  were  sent  forth  in  the  same  way  by 
the  booksellers,  — such  as  those  published  by  Mateo  de  la 
Bastida,  in  1652 ; by  Manuel  Lopez,  in  1653 ; by  Juan  de 
Valdes,  in  1655  ; by  Robles,  in  1664;  and  by  Zabra  and  Fer- 
nandez, in  1675,  aU  of  which  have  been  used  in  the  account 
of  the  theatre  in  the  text,  — give  us  a living  and  faithful  impres- 
sion of  the  acted  Spanish  drama  in  the  seventeenth  centmy ; 
for  the  plays  they  contain  are  those  that  were  everywhere  per- 
formed on  the  national  stage,  and  they  are  here  presented  to 
us,  not  so  often  in  the  form  given  them  by  their  authors,  as  in 
the  form  in  which  they  were  fitted  for  the  stage  by  the  man- 
agers, and  plundered  from  the  prompter’s  manuscripts,  or  not- 
ed down  in  the  theatres,  by  piratical  booksellers. 


APPENDIX,  G. 


ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  BAD  TASTE  IN  SPAIN,  CALLED 

CULTISMO. 

(See  Vol.  H.  p.  533,  note.) 

A REMARKABLE  discussion  took  place  in  Italy  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  concerning  the  origin  of  the 
bad  taste  in  literature  that  existed  in  Spain  after  1600,  under 
the  name  of  “ Cultismo  ” ; — some  of  the  distinguished  men 
of  letters  in  each  country  casting  the  reproach  of  the  whole  of 
it  upon  the  other.  The  circumstances,  which  may  be  prop- 
erly regarded  as  a part  of  Spanish  literary  history,  were  the 
following. 

In  1773,  Saverio  Bettinelli,  a superficial,  but  somewhat 
popular,  writer,  in  his  “ Risorgimento  d’  Italia  negli  Studj,  etc., 
dopo  il  MiUe,”  charged  Spain,  and  particularly  the  Spanish 
theatre,  with  the  bad  taste  that  prevailed  in  Italy  after  that 
country  fell  so  much  under  Spanish  control ; adding  to  a 
slight  notice  of  Lope  de  Vega  and  Calderon  the  following 
words  : — “ This,  then,  is  the  taste  which  passed  into  Italy,  and 
there  ruined  every  thing  pm'e.”  (Parte  II.  cap.  3,  Tragedia  e 
Commedia.)  Girolamo  Tiraboschi,  in  his  “ Storia  della  Let- 
teratura  Itahana,”  first  published  between  1772  and  1783, 
maintained  a similar  position  or  theory,  tracing  this  bad  taste, 
as  it  were,  to  the  very  soil  and  climate  of  Spain,  and  follow- 
ing its  footsteps,  both  in  ancient  times,  when,  he  believed,  the 
Latin  literature  had  been  corrupted  by  it  after  the  Senecas 
and  Martial  came  from  Spain  to  Rome,  and  in  modern  times. 


428 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  G. 


when  he  charged  upon  it  the  follies  of  Marini  and  aU  his 
school.  (Tom.  II.,  Dissertazione  Preliminare,  § 27.) 

Botli  these  writers  were,  no  doubt,  sufficiently  decided  in 
the  tone  of  their  opinions.  Neither  of  them,  however,  was 
harsh  or  violent  in  his  manner,  and  neither,  probably,  felt  that 
he  was  making  such  an  attack  on  the  literatmn  and  fair  fame 
of  another  counti’y  as  would  provoke  a reply;  — much  less, 
one  that  would  draw  after  it  a long  controversy. 

But  at  that  period  there  were  in  Italy  a considerable  number 
of  learned  Spaniards,  who  had  been  driven  there,  as  Jesuits,  by 
the  expulsion  of  their  Society  from  Spain  in  1767 ; men  whose 
chief  resource  and  amusement  were  letters,  and  who,  like  true 
Spaniards,  felt  not  a whit  the  less  proud  of  their  country  be- 
cause they  had  been  violently  expelled  from  it.  With  hardly 
a single  exception,  they  seem  to  have  been  offended  by  these 
and  other  similar  remarks  of  BettineUi  and  Tiraboschi,  to 
which  they  were,  perhaps,  only  the  more  sensitive,  because 
the  distinguished  Italians  who  made  them  were,  like  them- 
selves, members  of  the  persecuted  Order  of  the  Jesuits. 

Answers  to  these  imputations,  therefore,  soon  began  to 
appear.  Two  were  published  in  1776  ; — the  first  by  Thomas 
Sen’ano,  a Valencian,  who,  in  some  Latin  Letters,  printed  at 
Ferrara,  defended  the  Latin  poets  of  Spain  from  the  accusa- 
tions of  Tiraboschi,  (Ximeno,  Tom.  II.  p.  335;  Fuster,  Tom. 
II.  p.  Ill,)  and  the  second  by  Father  Giovanni  Andres,  who, 
in  a Dissertation  printed  at  Cremona,  took  similar  ground, 
which  he  fmdher  eiffarged  and  fortified  afterwards,  in  his  gTeat 
work  on  universal  literary  history,  (Dell’  Origine,  Progresso, 
e Stato  Attuale  di  Ogni  Letteratura,  1782  - 99,  9 tom.,  4to,) 
where  he  maintains  the  dignity  and  honor  of  his  country’s 
literatm’e  on  all  points,  and  endeavom’s  to  trace  the  origin  of 
much  of  what  is  best  in  the  early  cultoe  of  modern  Ernope 
to  Arabian  influences  coming  in  from  Spain,  through  Pro- 
vence, to  Italy  and  France. 

To  the  Letters  of  Serrano  rejoinders  appeared  at  once  from 
Clement  Vannetti,  the  person  to  whom  Seirano  had  addressed 
them,  and  from  Alessandro  Zorzi,  a friend  of  Tirabosclii ; — 
and  to  the  Dissertation  of  Father  Andres,  Tiraboschi  himself 


App.  G.] 


ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  CULTISMO. 


429 


replied,  with  much  gentleness,  in  the  notes  to  subsequent  edi- 
tions of  his  “ Storia  della  Letteratura.”  (See  Angelo  Ant. 
Scotti,  Elogio  Storico  del  Padre  Giovanni  Andres,  Napoli, 
1817, 8vo,pp.  13, 143,  Tiraboschi,  Storia,  ed.  Roma,  1782,  Tom. 
11.  p.  23.) 

Meantime,  others  among  the  exiled  Spanish  Jesuits  in  Italy, 
such  as  Arteaga,  who  afterwards  wrote  the  valuable  “ Rivolu- 
zioni  del  Teatro  Musicale,”  1783,  and  Father  Isla,  who  had 
been  famous  for  liis  “ Friar  Gerund  ” from  1758,  took  an  in- 
terest in  the  controversy.  (Salas,  Vida  del  Padre  Isla,  Madrid, 
1803,  12mo,  p.  136.)  But  the  person  who  brought  to  it  the 
learning  which  now  makes  it  of  consequence  in  Spanish  lit- 
erary history  was  Francisco  Xavier  Lampillas,  or  Llampillas, 
who  was  born  in  Catalonia,  in  1731,  and  was,  for  some  time. 
Professor  of  Belles  Lettres  in  Barcelona,  but  who,  from  the 
period  of  his  exile  as  a Jesuit  in  1767  to  that  of  his  death  in 
1810,  lived  chiefly  in  Genoa  or  its  neighbom’hood,  devoting 
himself  to  literary  prusuits,  and  publishing  occasionally  works, 
both  in  prose  and  verse,  in  the  Italian  language,  which  he 
uTote  with  a good  degree  of  purity. 

Among  these  works  was  his  “ Saggio  Storico-apologetico 
della  Letteratura  Spagnuola,”  printed  between  1778  and  1781, 
in  six  volumes,  octavo,  devoted  to  a formal  defence  of  Spanish 
literature  against  Bettinelli  and  Tiraboschi ; — occasionally, 
however,  noticing  the  mistakes  of  others,  who,  like  Signorelli, 
had  touched  on  the  same  subject.  In  the  separate  cUsseila- 
tions  of  which  this  somewhat  remarkable  book  is  composed, 
the  author  discusses  the  connection  between  the  Latin  poets 
of  Spain  and  those  of  Rome  in  the  period  following  the  death 
of  Augustus ; — he  examines  the  question  of  the  Spanish  cli- 
mate raised  by  Tiraboschi,  and  claims  for  Spain  a culture 
earlier  than  that  of  Italy,  and  one  as  ample  and  as  honorable  ; 
— he  asserts  that  Spain  was  not  indebted  to  Italy  for  the 
revival  of  letters  within  her  borders  at  the  end  of  the  Dark 
Ages,  or  for  the  knowledge  of  the  art  of  navigation  that 
opened  to  her  the  New  World;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he 
avers  that  Italy  owed  to  Spain  much  of  the  reform  of  its  theo- 
logical and  juridical  studies,  especially  in  the  sixteenth  centu- 


430 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  G. 


ry ; — and  brings  his  work  to  a conclusion,  in  the  seventh  and 
eighth  dissertations,  with  an  historical  exhibition  of  the  high 
claims  of  Spanish  poetry  generally,  and  with  a defence  of  the 
Spanish  theatre  from  the  days  of  the  Romans  down  to  his 
own  times. 

No  doubt,  some  of  these  pretensions  are  quite  unfounded, 
and  others  are  stated  much  more  strongly  than  they  should 
be  ; and  no  doubt,  too,  the  general  temper  of  the  work  is  any 
thing  rather  than  forbearing  and  philosophical ; but  still,  many 
of  its  defensive  points  are  well  maintained,  and  many  of  its 
incidental  notices  of  Spanish  literary  history  are  interesting, 
if  not  important.  At  any  rate,  it  produced  a good  effect  on 
opinion  in  Italy;  and,  when  added  to  the  works  published 
there  soon  afterwards  by  Arteaga,  Clavigero,  Eximeno,  An- 
dres, and  other  exiled  Spaniards,  it  tended  to  remove  many 
of  the  prejudices  that  existed  among  the  Italians  against 
Spanish  literature ; — prejudices  which  had  come  down  from 
the  days  when  the  Spaniards  had  occupied  so  much  of  Italy 
as  conquerors,  and  had  thus  earned  for  their  nation  the  lasting 
ill-will  of  its  people. 

Answers,  of  course,  were  not  wanting  to  the  work  of  Lam- 
pillas,  even  before  it  was  completed ; one  of  which,  by  Betti- 
neUi,  appeared  in  the  nineteenth  volume  of  the  “ Diario  ” of 
Modena,  and  another,  in  1778,  by  Tiraboschi,  in  a separate 
pamphlet,  which  he  republished  afterwards  in  the  different 
editions  of  his  great  work.  To  both,  LampiUas  put  forth  a 
rejoinder  in  1781,  not  less  angry  than  his  original  Apology, 
but,  on  the  whole,  less  successful,  since  he  was  unable  to 
maintain  some  of  the  positions  skilfully  selected  and  attacked 
by  liis  adversaries,  or  to  establish  many  of  the  facts  which  they 
had  drawn  into  question.  Tnaboschi  reprinted  this  rejoinder 
at  the  end  of  his  own  work,  with  a few  short  notes ; the  only 
reply  which  he  thought  it  necessary  to  make. 

Eut  in  Spain  the  triumph  of  LampiUas  was  open  and  un- 
questioned. His  Storia  Apologetica  was  received  with  distin- 
guished honors  by  the  Academy  of  History,  and,  together 
with  his  pamphlet  defending  it,  was  published  first  in  1782,  in 
six  volumes,  and  then,  in  1789,  in  seven  volumes,  translated 


App.  G.] 


ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  CULTIS3IO. 


431 


by  Dona  Maria  Josefa  Amar  y Borbon,  an  Aragonese  lady  of 
some  literary  reputation.  What,  however,  was  yet  more  wel- 
come to  its  author,  Charles  the  Third,  the  very  king  by  whose 
command  he  had  been  exiled,  gave  him  an  honorable  pension 
for  his  defence  of  the  national  literature,  and  acknowledged 
the  merits  of  the  work  by  liis  minister,  Count  Florida  Blanca, 
who  counted  among  them  not  only  its  learning,  but  an  “ ur- 
banity” which  now-a-days  we  are  unable  to  discover  in  it. 
(Sempere,  Biblioteca,  Tom.  III.  j?-  165.) 

After  this,  the  conti’oversy  seems  to  have  died  away  entirely, 
except  as  it  appeared  in  notes  to  the  great  work  of  Tiraboschi, 
wliich  he  continued  to  add  to  the  successive  editions  till  his 
death,  in  1794.  The  result  of  the  whole  — so  far  as  the 
original  question  is  concerned  — is,  that  a great  deal  of  bad 
taste  is  proved  to  have  existed  in  Spain  and  in  Italy,  espe- 
cially from  the  times  of  Gongora  and  Marina,  not  without  con- 
nection and  sympathy  between  the  two  countiles,  but  that 
neither  can  be  held  exclusively  responsible  for  its  origin  or 
for  its  diffusion. 


APPENDIX,  H. 


INEDITA. 

Having  a little  enlarged  the  first  and  second  volumes  for 
the  purpose,  I am  enabled  here  to  present  some  of  the  very  old 
and  interesting  Spanish  poetiy,  furnished  to  me  by  Don  Pas- 
cual  de  Gayangos,  but  never  before  published.  I wish  it  were 
in  my  power  to  print  more  of  the  manuscripts  in  my  posses- 
sion, but  I have  not  room. 


No.  I. 

POEMA  DE  JOSE  EL  PATRIARCA. 

The  first  of  the  manuscripts  referred  to  is  the  one  mentioned 
in  Vol.  I.  pp.  94-  99,  as  a poem  on  the  subject  of  Joseph,  the 
son  of  Jacob,  — remarkable  on  many  accounts,  and,  among 
the  rest,  because,  in  the  only  copy  of  it  known  to  exist,  — that 
in  the  National  Library,  Madrid,  MSS.  G.  g.,  4to,  101,  — it  is 
wiltten  entirely  in  the  Arabic  character,  so  that,  for  a long 
time,  it  was  regarded  as  an  Arabic  manuscript.  It  has  not,  1 
believe,  been  deemed  of  a later  date  than  the  end  of  the  four- 
teenth century.  Indeed,  its  language  and  general  air  would 
seem  to  indicate  an  earlier  one ; but  we  should  bear  in  mind 
that  the  Moriscos,  to  some  one  of  whom  this  poem  is  due,  did 
not  make  a progress  in  the  language  and  culture  of  Spain  so 
rapid  as  the  Spaniards  did,  by  whom,  long  before  the  fall  of 
Granada,  large  masses  of  them  were  smTounded  and  kept  in 
subjection.  On  this  account  we  may  conjecture  the  poem  to 
liave  been  written  as  late  as  the  year  1400 ; but  its  date  is  un- 
certain. 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


483 


* * # ^ 

« # # # y 4-- 

Jusuf  seiendo  chico  i de  pocos  annos, 

Costigandolo  su  padre  no  se  encubrio  de  sus  ermanos, 
Dijoles  el  suenno  que  bido  en  los  altos  ; 

Pensaronle  traision  c fizieronle  engannos. 

Dijeronle  sus  ermanos,  “ Agamosle  certero  ; 

Roguemos  a nueso  padre  rogaria  berdadera, 

Que  nos  deje  a Jusuf  en  la  comanda  berdadera, 

1 amostrarle  emos  mannas  de  cazar  la  alimanna  berd;ulera.'’ 
****#» 
*###** 

Porque  Jacab  amaba  a Jusuf  por  marabella, 

Porque  el  era  disquito  i agudo  de  orella, 

Porque  la  su  madre  era  fermosa  e bella, 

Sobre  todas  las  otras  era  amada  ella. 

Aquesta  fue  la  razon  porque  le  obieron  enbidia, 

Porque  Jusuf  sonno  un  suenno  una  noche  ante  el  dm, 
Suenno  que  entendieron  sus  ermanos  siempre  todabia, 

Que  Jusuf  seiendo  menor  abria  la  mejoria. 

# * * «r.  * * 

# # # # * 

Dijieron  sus  filhos,  “ Padre,  eso  no  pensedes, 

Somos  dies  ermanos,  eso  bien  sabedes  ; 

Seriarnos  taraidorcs,  eso  no  dubdedes  ; 

Mas  enpero,  si  no  vos  place,  aced  lo  que  queredes. 

“ Mas  aquesto  pensamos,  sabclo  el  Criador  ; 

Porque  supiese  mas,  i ganase  el  nuestro  amor, 

Ensenarle  aiemos  las  obelhas  e el  ganado  maior  ; 

Mas  enpero,  si  no  vos  place,  mandad  como  senor."’ 

Tanto  le  dijeron  de  palabras  fermosas, 

Tanto  le  prometieron  de  palabras  piadosas, 

Que  el  les  did  el  ninno,  dijoles  las  oras, 

Que  lo  guardasen  a el  de  manos  enganosas. 

Dioseles  el  padre,  como  no  debia  far, 

Fiandose  en  sus  filhos,  e no  quis  mas  dubdar  ; 

Dijo,  “ Filhos,  los  mis  filhos,  lo  que  os  quiero  rogar, 

Que  me  lo  catedes  e me  lo  querais  guardar. 

“ E me  lo  bolbades  luego  en  amor  del  Criador, 

A el  fareis  placer,  i a mi  mui  grand  fabor, 

Y en  esto  no  fallescades,  filhos,  por  mi  amor. 

Encomiendolo  a el  de  Allah,  poderoso  Senor." 

Lebaronlo  en  cuello  mientras  su  padre  los  bido. 

De  que  fueron  apartados  bien  beredes  que  fueron  a far  ; 
Bajaronlo  del  cuello,  en  tierra  lo  van  a posar. 

Quando  esto  bido  Jusuf  por  su  padre  fue  a sospirar. 

Dejabanlo  zaguero  mal  andante  e cuitado, 

E el  como  era  tierno  quedo  mui  querebantado  ; 

Dijoles,  “ Atendedme,  ermanos,  que  boi  mui  cansado. 

No  querais  que  quede  aqui  desmamparado. 

55 


VOL.  III. 


K K 


434 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Apr  H 


“ Dadme  agua  del  rio  o de  fuente  o de  mar, 

No  querades  que  muera  de  sete  ni  de  fambar  ; 

No  querades  que  finque  de  sin  padre  ni  madre ; 

Acuerdeseos  lo  que  os  dijo  el  cano  de  mi  padre.” 

Esto  que  oyera  el  uno  de  ellos,  bien  beredes  lo  que  fizo ; 

Dio  de  mano  al  gua,  en  tierra  la  bacio, 

De  punnos  e de  cozes  mui  mal  lo  firio, 

El  ninno  con  las  sobras  en  tierra  cayo. 

Alii  se  fue  a rencorar  uno  de  sus  ermanos, 

•lahuda  tiene  por  nombre,  mui  arreciado  de  manos  ; 

Fuesele  a rogar  ad  aquellos  onrados 
No  murid  entonces  qui  sieronlo  sus  fades. 

Tomaron  su  consejo,  i obieronlo  por  bien, 

Que  lo  llebasen  al  monte  al  pozo  de  Azraiel  ; 

Frio  es  el  fosal,  e las  fieras  ia  se  acian, 

Porque  se  lo  comiesen  i nunca  mas  lo  bian. 

Pensaban,  que  dirian  al  su  padre  onrrado, 

Que,  estando  en  las  obelhas,  bino  el  lobo  airado, 

Estando  durmiendo  Jusuf  a su  caiado, 

Bino  el  lobo  maldito  i a Jusuf  bubo  matado. 

Jacub  estaba  aflejido  por  la  tardanza  de  su  fijo, 

Saliose  por  las  carreras  por  oir  i saber  de  sus  fijos  nuebas  berdaderas 
Bidolos  benir,  meciendo  las  cabezas, 

Diciendo,  “ 0 ermano  Jusuf!  ” de  tan  buena  manera. 

Quando  los  bido  benir  con  tal  apellido, 

Luego  en  aquella  ora  caio  amortesido  ; 

Quando  llegaron  a el  no  le  hallaron  sentido, 

Dijeron  todos,  “ Senor,  dale  el  perdon  curnplido.” 

Dijo  Jahuda  a todos  sus  ermanos, 

“ Bolbamos  por  Jusuf,  donde  estaba  encelado, 

I abremos  gualardon  de  nueso  padre  onrrado  ; 
lo  prometo  de  encelar  quanto  abemos  errado.” 

Dijeron  sus  ermanos,  “ Eso  no  aremos  ; 

Somos  diez  ermanos,  eso  bien  sabemos  ; 

Bamos  a nueso  padre  e todo  se  lo  contaremos. 

Que,  contandole  aquesto,  seremos  creederos.” 

Hasta  poco  de  rate  Jacob  ubo  recordado  ; 

Dijo,  “ Que  es  de  mi  fijo,  que  es  de  mi  amado  ? 

Que  le  abedes  fecho,  en  do  lo  abeis  dejado?  ” 

E todos  dijeron,  “ El  lobo  lo  ha  matado.” 

“No  bos  creio,  filhos,  de  quanto  me  dezides  ; 

Idme  a cazar  el  lobo  de  aquel  donde  benides, 

Que  io  le  fare  ablar  corbas  sus  corbizes ; 

Con  la  aiuda  de  Allah,  el  me  dira  si  falsia  ine  dezedes.” 

E fueronse  a cazar  el  lobo  con  falsia  mui  grande, 

Diciendo  que  abia  fecho  una  muerte  tan  mala  ; 

Traieron  la  camisa  de  Jusuf  ensangrentada, 

Porque  creiese  Jacob  aquello  sin  dudanza. 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


48n 


Rogo  Jacob  al  Criador,  e al  lobo  fue  a fablar. 

Dijo  el  lobo,  “ No  lo  manda  Allah  que  a nabi  t’ue.sp  a mul:i.r  ; 
En  tan  estranna  tierra  me  fueron  a cazar. 

Anme  fecho  pecado,  i lebanme  a lazrar.” 

Dijo  Jacob,  “ Filhos  que  tuerto  me  tenedes. 

I)e  quanto  me  decides  de  todo  me  fallesedes, 

En  el  Allah  creio,  e fio  que  aun  lo  beredes 
Todas  estas  cosas  que  aun  lo  pagaredes."’ 

E bolbiose  Jacob  e bolbiose  llorando, 

E quedaron  sus  filhos  como  desmamparados  ; 

Fueronse  a Jusuf  donde  estaba  encelado, 

E lebaronle  al  pozo  por  el  suelo  rastrando. 

Echaronle  en  el  pozo  con  cuerda  mui  luenga  ; 

Quando  fue  a medio  ubieronla  cortada, 

E caio  entre  una  penna  i una  piedra  airada, 

E quiso  Allah  del  cielo,  e no  le  nocio  nada. 

Alii  caio  Jusuf  en  aquella  agua  fria, 

Por  do  pasaba  gente  con  mercaduria, 

Que  tenian  sed  con  la  calor  del  dia, 

I embiaron  por  agua  alii  donde  el  iacia. 

Echaron  la  ferrada  con  cuerda  mui  larga  ; 

No  la  pudieron  sacar,  ca  mucho  les  pesaba 
Por  razon  que  Jusuf  en  ella  se  trababa ; 

Pusieron  i esfuerzo,  i salto  la  bella  barba. 

Elios  de  que.  bieron  a tan  noble  crialura 
Marabillaronse  de  su  grand  fermosura  : 

Llebaronle  al  mercader,  e plaziole  su  figura  ; 

Prometioles  mucho  bien  e mui  mucha  mesura. 

Asta  poco  de  rato  sus  ermanos  binieron 
A demandarlo,  su  catibo  lo  ferieron  ; 

El  lo  otorgo  pues  ellos  lo  quisieron  ; 

Jahuda  los  aconsejo  por  alia  por  do  binieron. 

Dijo  el  mercader,  “ Amigos,  si  queredes 
Aquestos  vente  dineros  por  el  si  lo  bendedes. 

Dijeron,  “ Contentos  somos  con  que  lo  enpresioncdes. 

Asta  la  tierra  santa  que  no  lo  soltaredes.’’ 

E fizieron  su  carta,  de  como  lo  bendieron  ; 

E todo  por  sus  manos  por  escripto  lo  pusieron. 

E ad  aquel  mercader  su  carta  le  rindieron, 

E lebaronlo  encadenado  ansi  como  punsieron. 

Quando  bino  el  mober,  Jusuf  iba  llorando, 

Por  espedirse  de  sus  ermanos  mal  iba  quexando, 

Malos  eran  ellos,  mas  el  acia  su  guisado, 

Demando  al  mercader  i otorgoselo  de  grado. 

Dijo  el  mercader,  “ Esta  es  marabella, 

Que  ellos  te  an  vendido  como  si  fueses  obelha. 

Diciendo  que  eras  ladron  e de  mala  pelelha  ; 

E io  por  tales  senores  no  daria  una  arbelha.” 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


App.  II 


■} 


4S(i 


Partiose  Jusuf  con  la  cadena  rastrando, 

E Jahuda  aquella  noche  estabalos  belando, 

Espertolos  a todos  tan  apriesa  llorando, 

Diziendo,  “ Lebantadbos,  recibid  al  torteado.” 

Dijo  Jusuf,  “ Ermanos,  perdoneos  el  Criador 
Del  tuerto  que  me  tenedes,  perdoneos  el  Senor  ; 

Que  para  siempre  e nunca  se  parta  el  nuestro  amor." 
Abraso  a cada  guno,  e partiose  con  dolor. 

Iba  con  gran  gente  aquel  mercadero ; 

Vlli  iba  Jusuf  solo  e sin  companero ; 

Pasaron  por  un  camino  por  un  fosal  sennero, 

Ho  iacia  la  su  madre  acerca  de  un  otero. 

Dio  salto  del  camello  donde  iba  cabalgando ; 

No  lo  sintio  el  negro  que  lo  iba  guardando ; 

Fuese  a la  fuesa  de  su  madre  a pedirla  perdon  doblando 
Jusuf  a la  fuesa  tan  apriesa  llorando. 

Disiendo,  “ Madre,  Sennora,  perdoneos  el  Sennor, 
Madre,  si  me  bidieses  de  mi  abriais  dolor  ; 

Hoi  con  cadenas  al  cuello,  catibo  con  sennor, 

Bendido  de  mis  ermanos,  como  si  fuera  traidor. 

“ Elios  me  ban  bendido,  no  teniendoles  tuerto  ; 
Partieronme  de  mi  padre,  ante  que  fuese  muerto, 

(Jon  arte,  con  falsia,  ellos  me  obieron  buelto  ; 

Por  raal  precio  me  ban  bendido  por  do  boi  ajado  e cucito." 

E bolbiose  el  negro  ante  la  camella 
Requiriendo  a Jusuf  e no  lo  bido  en  ella, 

E bolbiose  por  el  camino  aguda  su  orella, 

Bidolo  en  el  fosal,  llorando  que  es  marabella. 

E fuese  alia  el  negro  e obolo  mal  ferido, 

E luego  en  aquella  ora  caio  amortesido ; 

Dijo,  “ Tu  eres  malo  e ladron  conpilido. 

Ansi  nos  lo  dijeron  tus  senores  que  te  bubieron  bendido.’" 

Dijo  Jusuf,  “ No  soi  malo  ni  ladron. 

Mas  aqui  iaz  mi  madre  e bengola  a dar  perdon  ; 

Ruego  ad  Allab,  i a el  fago  loaicon 

Que,  si  colpa  no  te  tengo,  te  enbie  su  maldicion.” 

Andaron  aquella  nocbe  fasta  otro  dia  ; 

Entorbioseles  el  mundo,  gran  bento  corria, 

Afallezioseles  el  sol  al  ora  de  medio  dia. 

No  vedian  por  do  ir  con  la  mercaderia. 

Aqueste  mercader  base  marabillado 
De  aquella  fortuna  que  traia  el  pecado. 

Dijo  el  mercader,  “ Yo  mando  pribado, 

Que  quien  pecado  a fecbo  que  bienga  acordado. 

“Que  es  aquesta  fortuna  que  agora  veiemos 
Por  algun  pecado  que  entre  nosotros  tenemos  ; 

Quien  pecado  a fecbo  perdone  e perdonemos, 

Mejoremos  ventura  e todos  escaparemos.” 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSfe. 


4 


Dijo  el  negro,  ‘‘  Senor,  io  di  una  bofetada 
A de  aquel  tu  catibo  que  se  fue  a la  alborada.” 

Llamo  el  mercader  a Jusuf  la  begada, 

Que  se  viniere  a bengar  del  negro  e su  errada. 

Dijo  Jusuf,  “ Eso  no  es  de  mi  a far  ; 

Io  no  vengo  de  aquellos  que  ansi  se  quieren  vengar ; 

Ante  bengo  de  aquellos  que  quieren  perdonar ; 

Por  gran  que  seia  el  ierro,  io  ansi  lo  quiero  far.’’ 

Aquesto  fecho  i el  negro  perdonado, 

Aclarecioles  el  dia  i el  mercader  fue  apagado. 

Dijo  el  mercader,  “ O amigo  granado  ! 

Sino  por  lo  compuesto  soltariate  de  grado.” 

Mas  a pocos  de  dias  a su  tierra  llegaron  ; 

Jusuf  fue  luego  suelto,  que  un  rio  lo  banaron  ; 

De  purpura  e de  seda  mui  bien  lo  guisaron, 

E de  piedras  preciosas  mui  bien  lo  afeitaron. 

Quando  entraron  por  la  cibdad,  las  gentes  se  marabillaban  ; 
bll  dia  era  nublo  e el  sol  no  relumbraba, 

Magiier  era  oscuro  e el  la  hazia  calara, 

Por  do  quier  que  pasaba  todo  lo  relonbraba. 

Decian  las  gentes  a de  aquel  mercadero. 

Si  era  aquel  angel  o ombre  santurero. 

Dijo,  “ Este  es  mi  catibo  leal  e berdadero, 

Io  quiero  lo  bender,  si  le  hallo  mercadero.” 

Dijo  el  mercader,  que  el  lo  benderia  en  mercado. 

Fizo  a saber  las  nuebas  por  todo  el  reinado, 

Que  biniese  toda  la  gente  para  el  dia  sennalado, 

Estando  Jusuf  apuesto  en  im  banco  posado. 

No  finco  en  toda  la  comarca  hombrc  ni  muger, 

Ni  chico  ni  grande,  que  non  le  fuese  a ber. 

Alii  bino  Zaleja  e dejo  el  comer, 

Cabalgada  en  una  mula  a quanto  podia  correr. 

Su  peso  de  palata  por  el  daba  bien  pesado, 

E otro  que  tal  haria  de  oro  esmaltado, 

E de  piedras  preciosas  como  dice  el  ditado, 

Mercolo  el  Rei  por  su  peso  de  oro  granado. 

Diolo  el  Rei  a Zaleja  con  amor, 

Tomaronlo  por  filbo  legitimo  e maior, 

Tomaronlo  dambos  de  mui  buen  amor ; 

Lebantose  el  pregonero,  e pregono  a sabor. 

Ijcbantose  el  pregonero,  e pregono  a sabor, 

Dijo,  “ Quien  compra  Profeta  cuerdo  e sabidor. 

Leal  i berdadero  i firme  en  el  Criador, 

Ansi  como  parece  por  fecho  e balorl  ” 

Dijo  Jusuf,  “ Tu  pregonaras,  amado, 

Quien  comprara  catibo,  torpe  e abiltado  ! ” 

Dijo  el  pregonero,  “ Eso  no  fare  io,  amado, 

Que,  si  aqueso  pregonase,  no  te  mercaran  de  grade.” 

KK^ 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[ App.  H. 


Am 


Dijo,  “ Plies  eso  no  quieres,  pregona  la  berdad, 

E ruegote,  ermano,  que  no  la  quieras  negar. 

Di,  Quien  comprara  profeta  del  alto  lugar, 

Filhos  de  Jacob  si  lo  aveis  oido  nombrarl  ” 

De  que  supo  el  mercader  que  era  de  tal  altura, 
llogo  al  comprador  le  bolbiese  por  mesura 
E doblarle  i a el  precio  de  su  compradura, 

E el  no  lo  quiso  hacer  porque  ia  tenia  bentura. 

Besandole  pies  i manos  que  lo  quisiese  far, 

El  por  ninguna  bia  no  lo  quiso  derogar, 

Tubose  por  mal  andante ; la  cuenta  ia  le  fue  a tornar, 
Salbante  lo  que  costo  no  lo  quiso  mas  tomar. 

Kogo  el  mercader  a Jusuf  la  sazon, 

Que  rogase  ad  .Allah  del  cielo  de  buen  corazon, 

Que  en  doce  mugeres  que  tenia,  todas  doce  en  amor, 
Que  en  todas  doce  le  diese  filhos  e criazon. 

Lebantose  Jusuf  e fizo  loacion, 

Rogo  ad  Allah  del  cielo  de  buen  corazon, 

Que  alargase  la  bida  al  buen  baron, 

T emprennaronse  todas,  cada  una  a su  sazon. 

Cuando  bino  la  ora  ubieron  de  librar, 

Quiso  Allah  del  cielo,  e todas  fueron  a hechar 
Mui  nobles  criaturas  e figuras  de  alegrar, 

Porque  nuestro  Senor  las  quiso  ayudar. 

Criolo  Zaleja,  mui  bien  lo  hubo  criado, 

E de  corazon  lo’  hubo  guardado, 

I el  como  era  apuesto  apegose  del  pribado, 

Demandole  el  su  cuerpo,  e no  le  semejo  guisado. 

Dijo  a su  pribada,  “ la  sabes,  amada, 

Como  io  he  criado  a Jusuf  cada  semana, 

De  noche  e de  dia  io  bien  lo  guardaba, 

T el  no  me  lo  prezia  mas  que  si  fuese  bana. 

“ Dame  sabiduria,  a mi  sapiencia  clara. 

Io  no  puedo  facer  que  el  acate  en  mi  cara  ; 

Solo  que  el  me  bediese  i el  luego  me  amara, 

E de  el  faria  a mi  guisa  en  lo  que  io  le  mandara.” 

Dijo  su  pribada,  “ Io  bos  dare  un  consejo  ; 

Bos  dadme  haber,  i os  fare  un  bosquejo, 

Io  habre  un  pintor  i mistorara  a arrecho, 

lo  fare  el  meter,  e a que  se  benga  a buestro  lecho.” 

Dc  quanto  le  demando  todo  lo  fue  bien  guisado ; 
Fizo  fazer  un  palacio  mui  apuesto  e cuadrado, 

Todo  lo  fizo  balanco  paredes  e terrado, 

E fizo  figurar  a un  pintor  piribado. 

De  Jusuf  e de  Zaleja  alii  hizo  sus  figuras, 

Que  se  abrazaban  dambos  pribados  sin  mesura, 

Porque  semejaban  bibos  con  seso  e cordura, 

Porque  eran  misturados  de  mistura  con  natura. 


No.  1,] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


439 


De  que  el  palacio  fue  feclio  e todo  bien  acabado, 

Alii  bino  Zaleja  e asentose  ia  de  grade, 

E embio  por  Jusuf  luego  con  el  mandado, 

••  Jusuf,  tu  Seilora  te  manda  que  baias  mui  pribado.” 

E fuese  Jusuf  do  Zaleja  salia, 

E como  quiso  de  entrar  luego  sintio  la  falsia, 

E quisose  bolber,  e ella  no  lo  consentia, 

Tarabolo  de  la  falda,  e llebolo  do  iacia. 

Alii  quedo  Jusuf  con  mui  gran  espanto  ; 

Afalagabolo  Zaleja  i el  bolbiase  de  canto, 

Prometiendole  aber  e riquezas  a basto. 

La  ora  dijo  Jusuf,  “ Allah  mandara  a farto.” 

Por  do  quier  que  cataba  beia  figora  artera ; 

Deciale  Zaleja,  “ Esta  es  fiera  manera; 

Tu  eres  un  catibo  e io  tu  Sennora  certera ; 
lo  no  puedo  fazer  que  tu  guies  a mi  carrera.” 

Jusuf  en  aquella  ora  quisose  encantar  ; 

El  pecado  lo  fazia  que  lo  queria  engannar ; 

E bido  que  no  era  a su  padre  onrrar  ; 

Repentido  fue  luego  i empezo  de  firmar. 

Jusuf  bolbio  las  cuestas  e empezo  de  fuir  ; 

-De  zaga  ibale  Zaleja,  no  lo  podia  sofrir  ; 

Trabolo  de  la  falda  como  oirias  decir, 

Echando  grandes  boces,  “ Aqui  abras  de  benir.” 

Oiolo  su  marido  por  do  alii  bino  pribado  ; 

Eallo  a Jusuf  llorando  su  mal  fado  ; 

Rota  tenia  la  falda  en  su  costado, 

I el  su  corazon  negro  por  miedo  de  pecado., 

Zaleja  tenia  tendidos  sus  cabellos, 

En  manera  de  forzada  con  sus  olhos  bermellos  ; 

Diziendo  al  buen  Rei,  “ Sennor,  de  los  consellos 
Aqui  son  menester ; cata  todos  tus  consejos. 

“ Cata  aqui  tu  catibo,  que  tenias  en  fieldad  ; 

Ame  caecido  por  sin  ninguna  piedad, 

Abiendolo  criado  con  tan  gran  piedad 

Como  faze  madre  a filho  ansi  lo  quise  aquesto  far.” 

Dijo  el  Rei  a Jusuf  aquesta  razon 
“ Como  me  as  pensado  en  tan  grande  traision, 

Tobiendote  puesto  en  mi  corazon?  ” 

La  ora  dijo  Jusuf,  “ No  bengo  de  tal  morgon.” 

Reutaban  a Zaleja  las  duennas  del  lugar 
Porque  con  su  catibo  queria  boltariar. 

Ella  de  que  lo  supo  arte  las  fue  a buscar, 

Combidolas  a todas  e llebolas  a cantar. 

Diolas  ricos  comeres  e binos  esmerados, 

Que  hijan  todas  agodas  de  dictados, 

Diolas  sendas  toronjas  e caminetes  en  las  manos,  \ 

Tajantes  e apuestos  e mui  bien  temperados. 


440 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Ai-r.  11. 


E fuese  Zaleja  a do  Jusuf  estaba, 

De  purpura  e de  seda  mui  bien  lo  aguisaba, 

E de  piedras  preciosas  mui  bien  lo  afeitaba, 
Berdugadero  en  sus  manos  a las  duennas  lo  embiaba. 

Ellas  de  que  lo  bieron  perdieron  su  cordura, 

Tanto  era  de  apuesto  e de  buena  figura  ; 

Pensaban  que  era  tan  angel  e tornaban  en  locura. 
(i'ortabanse  las  manos  e non  se  abian  cura, 

Que  por  las  toronjas  la  sangre  iba  andando. 

Zaleja  quando  lo  bido  toda  se  fue  alegrando  ; 

Dijoles  Zaleja  que  fais  lo  cas  de  sin  cuidado, 

Que  por  buesas  manos  la  sangre  iba  andando.” 

I ellas  de  que  lo  bieron  sintieron  su  locura. 

“ Que  a par  una  bista  sola  tomades  en  locura? 
lo  que  debia  fazer  e dende  el  tiempo  que  medura  ! ” 

Dijeronle  las  duennas,  “ A ti  no  te  colpamos, 
Nosotras  somos  las  ierradas  que  te  razonamos ; 

Mas  antes  guisaremos  que  el  te  benga  a tus  manos 
De  manera  que  seals  abenidos  enterambos.” 

E fueronse  las  duennas  a Jusuf  a rogar  ; 

Bederedes  cada  una  como  lo  debia  far ; 

Pensabase  Zaleja  que  por  ella  iban  a rogar, 

Mas  cada  guna  iba  para  si  a recabar. 

Jusuf  quando  aquesto  bido  reclamose  al  Criador  ; 
Diziendo,  “ Padre  mio,  de  mi  aiades  dolor; 

Son  tornadas  de  una  muchas  en  mi  amor, 

Pues  mas  quiero  ser  preso  que  no  ser  traidor.” 

Cuando  bido  Zaleja  la  cosa  mal  parada, 

Que  por  ninguna  bia  no  pudo  haber  de  entrada, 

Dijo  al  buen  Rei,  “ Este  me  a difamada 
No  teniendo  la  culpa,  mas  a falsia  granada.” 

Echolo  en  la  prision  aqui  a quo  se  bolbiese, 

E que  por  aquello  a ella  obedeciese  ; 

E entiendolo  el  Rei  ante  que  muriese 
E juro  que  non  salria  mientras  que  el  bibiese. 

E quando  aquesto  fue  fecho,  Zaleja  fue  repentida  ; 
No  lo  abria  querido  fazer  en  dias  de  su  vida, 
Diziendo,  “ 0 mezquina,  nunca  sere  guarida 
De  este  mal  tan  grande  en  que  soi  caida. 

“ Que  si  io  supiera  que  esto  abia  de  benir, 

Que  por  ninguna  bia  no  se  ha  podido  complir, 

Que  io  no  he  podido  de  este  mal  guarir, 

Por  deseo  de  Jusuf  habre  io  de  morir.” 

Alii  iaze  diez  annos  como  si  fuese  cordero, 

Daqui  a que  mando  el  Rei  a un  su  portero 
Echar  en  la  prision  dos  ombres  i el  tercero, 

El  uno  su  escancieno  e el  otro  un  panicero ; 


.No  l.J 


POEMA  UE  JOSfi. 


44i 


Porque  abian  pensado  al  Rci  de  far  traicion, 

Que  en  el  bino  e en  el  pan  que  le  echasen  ponzon. 
Probado  fue  al  panicero,  e al  escancieno  non, 

Porque  mejor  supo  catar  e encobrir  la  traicion. 

Alii  do  estaban  presos  mui  bien  los  castigaba, 

1']  qualquiera  que  enferniaba  mui  bien  lo  curaba ; 
'I'odos  lo  guardaban  por  do  quiera  que  el  estaba, 
Porque  el  lo  merecia,  su  figura  se  lo  daba. 

Sonno  el  escancieno  un  suenno  tan  pesado  ; 
Contolo  a Jusuf,  i sacosele  de  grado. 

Dijo,  “ Tu  fues  escancieno  de  tu  Sennor  onrrado. 
AI;is  oi  en  seras  a tu  olicio  tornado, 

'•  E abras  perdon  de  tu  Sennor  ; 

Aiudete  el  seso  i guiete  el  Criador, 

I a quien  Allah  da  seso  dale  grande  onor ; 
llolberas  a tu  oficio  con  mui  grande  balor.” 

Dijo  el  panicero  al  su  compannero, 

*•  lo  dire  a Jusuf  que  e sonnado  un  suenno 
Do  noche  en  tal  dia,  quando  salia  el  lucero, 

I here  que  me  dize  en  su  seso  certero.” 

Contole  el  panicei'O  el  suenno  que  queria, 

1 sacosele  Jusuf  e nada  no  le  inentia ; 

Dijo,  “ Tu  fues  panicero  del  Rei  todabia. 

Mas  aqui  iacoras  porque  fiziste  falsia  ; 

“ Que  al  tercero  dia  seras  tu  luego  suelto, 

E seras  enforcado  a tu  cabeza  el  tuerto, 

E comeran  tus  meollos  las  abes  del  puerto  ; 

Alii  seras  colgado  hasta  que  sias  muerto.” 

Dijo  el  panicero,  “ No  sonne  cosa  certora, 

Que  io  me  lo  dezia  por  ber  la  manera.” 

Dijo  Jusuf,  “ Esta  es  cosa  bcrdadera, 

Que  lo  que  tu  dijestes,  Allah  lo  embio  por  carrera." 

Dijo  Jusuf  al  escancieno  aquesta  razon  ; 

“ Ruegote  que  recuerdes  al  Rei  de  mi  prision. 

Que  arto  me  a durado  esta  gran  maldicion.” 

Dijo  el  escancieno,  “ Plaze  me  de  corazon.” 

Que  al  tercero  dia  salieron  de  grado, 

E fueron  delante  del  Rei,  su  Sennor  onrrado  ; 

E mando  el  panicero  ser  luego  enforcado, 

Dijo,  “ El  escancieno  a su  oficio  a tornado."' 

Olbidosele  al  escancieno  de  decir  el  su  mandado. 

E no  le  menibro  por  dos  anos  ni  le  fne  acordado, 
Fasta  que  sonno  un  suenno  el  Rei  apoderado ; 

Doce  annos  estnbo  preso,  e esto  mal  de  su  grado. 

Aqueste  fue  el  suenno  que  el  Rei  ubo  sonnado, 

De  que  salia  del  agua  un  rio  granado, 

Anir  era  su  nombre  preciado  e granado, 

I bido  que  en  salian  siete  bacas  de  grado. 

56 


VOI,.  III. 


U2 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[Apt  H. 


Eran  bellas  e gordas  e de  lai  mui  cargadas, 

I bido  otras  siete  magras,  flacas,  e delgadas. 

(3omianse  las  flacas  a las  gordas  granadas, 

I"!  no  se  les  parecia  ni  enchian  las  hilladas. 

E bido  siete  espigas  mui  llenas  de  grano, 
llerdes  e fermosas  como  en  tiempo  de  berano  ; 

E bido  otras  siete  secas  con  grano  bano, 

'I'odas  secas  e blancas  como  caballo  cano. 

Comianse  las  secas  a las  berdes  del  dia, 

E no  se  les  parecia  ninguna  mejoria ; 

'I'ornabanse  todas  secas  cada  guna  bacia, 

'I'odas  secas  c blancas  como  de  niebla  fria. 

El  Rei  se  marabello  de  como  se  comian 
Las  flacas  a las  gordas  granadas, 

1 las  siete  espigas  secas  a las  berdes  mojadas, 

I entendio  que  en  su  suenno  abia  largas  palabras, 

E no  podia  pensar  a que  fuesen  sacadas. 

E llamo  a los  sabidores  e el  suenno  les  fue  a conlar, 
Que  se  lo  sacasen  e no  ge  diesen  bagar, 

E ellos  le  dijeron,  “ Nos  querais  aquejar, 

Miraremos  en  los  libros  o no  te  daremos  bagar.” 


Dijeronle,  “ Sennor,  no  seals  aquejado  ; 

No  son  los  suennos  ciertos  en  tiempo  arrebatado. 

Los  amores  crecen  segun  noso  cuidado, 

Mas  a las  de  beras  suelen  tornar  en  false.” 

I amansose  el  Rei,  e dioles  de  mano,  ' 

Porque  el  entendio  quo  andaban  en  bano. 

E ubo  de  saber  aquello  el  escancieno, 

E binose  al  Rei,  e diole  la  mano. 

E dijole,  “ Sennor,  io  se  un  sabidor  onrrado 
El  qual  esta  en  prision  firmemente  atorteado ; 

Dos  annos  abemos  que  del  non  me  e acordado, 

I'l  fecho  como  torpe,  e sientome  ierrado. 

“ la  me  saco  un  suenno,  cierto  le  bi  benir.” 

E el  Rei  le  respondio,  “ Amigo,  empieza  de  ir, 

E contaselo  todo,  como  as  oido  dezir, 

E librarlo  cmos  mui  presto  e sacarlo  io  de  alii.” 

E fuese  el  escancieno  a Jusuf  de  grado, 

E dijo,  “ Perdoname,  amigo,  que  olbide  tu  mandado, 
E fizolo  el  miedo  de  mi  Sennor  onrrado. 

Mas  agora  es  tiempo  de  mandarlo  doblado. 

“ Mas  ruegote,  ermano,  en  amor  del  Criador, 

Que  me  saques  un  suenno  que  bido  mi  Sennor.” 

La  ora  dijo  Jusuf,  “ Plazeme  de  corazon, 

Pues  que  no  puedo  salir  fasta  que  quiera  el  maior.” 

E contole  el  suenno  todo  bien  cumplido, 

Porque  no  ierrase  Jusuf  en  lo  que  era  sabido. 

Quando  el  suenno  fue  contado,  Jusuf  ubo  entendido; 
Dijo  Jusuf,  “ El  suenno  es  cierto  e benido. 


No  1] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


44:8 


••  Sabras  que  las  siete  bacas  gordas  e granadas, 

E las  siete  espigas  berdes  e mojadas, 

Son  siete  annos  mui  llubiesos  de  aguas, 

Do  qniera  que  sembraredes  todas  naceran  dobladas. 

" I las  magras  bacas  e las  secas  espigas 
Son  siete  annos  de  mui  fuertes  prisas  ; 

Comense  a los  buenos  bien  a las  sus  guisas, 

Do  quiera  que  sembraredes  no  ia  saldran  espigas. 

••  Porque  face  menester,  que  sembraredes  a basto 
En  estos  annos  buenos  que  aberedes  a farto, 

I dejaredes  probiendo  para  bosotros  e al  ganado 
I alzaredes  lo  a otro  ansi  fechos  llegado. 

“ Ansi  eon  su  espiga  sin  ninguna  trilladura 
E la  palla  sera  guardada  mui  bien  de  afolladura, 
Porque  no  ii  caiga  polilla,  ni  ninguna  podredura. 
Porque  en  estos  tiempos  secos  tengades  folgaduru. 

Porque  en  aquestos  annos  tengades  que  comer 
E buestros  bestiales  e las  bacas  de  beber, 

E todos  los  esforzades,  e poredes  guarecer, 

E saldreis  al  buen  tiempo  e abreis  mucho  bien." 

Cuando  bio  el  escancieno  del  suenno  la  glosa, 
Bolbiose  al  Rei  con  berdadera  cosa, 

E fizole  a saber  al  de  la  barba  donosa, 

Que  era  el  suenno  con  razon  fermosa. 

E placiole  mucho  al  Rei,  e ovo  gran  plazer, 

E supole  malo  de  tal  preso  tener, 

Cuerdo  e berdadero,  complido  en  el  saber, 

E mando  que  lo  traiesen,  que  el  lo  queria  ber. 

E fuese  el  escancieno  a Jusuf  con  el  mandado, 

E dijo  como  el  Rei  por  el  abia  embiado, 

E que  fuese  presto  del  Rei,  no  fuese  airado. 

E dijo  Jusuf,  “No  sere  tan  entorbiado  ; 

Mas  buelbete  al  Rei  i dile  desta  manera. 
lo  que  feuza  tendre  en  su  merced  certera, 

Que  me  a tubido  preso  doce  annos  en  la  carcel  negra 
A tuerto  e sin  razon  e a traision  berdadera. 

“ Mas  io  de  su  prision  no  quiero  salir 
Fasta  que  me  benga  de  quien  alii  me  fizo  ir, 

De  las  duennas  fermosas  que  me  fizieron  fuir, 

Quant  se  cortaban  las  manos  e no  lo  podian  senlir. 

“ Aplazelas  el  Rei  pues  que  me  dannaron. 

Que  digan  la  berdad  porque  me  colparon, 

O por  qual  razon  en  carcel  me  echaron, 

Porque  entienda  el  Rei,  porque  me  acolparon. 

“ E quando  seran  ajuntadas  e Zaleja  con  ella?, 
Demandelas  el  Rei  berdad  a todas  ellas, 

E quando  el  bera  que  la  culpa  tienen  ellas 
I, a ora  io  saldre  de  mui  buena  manera. 


444 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Aplazolas  el  Rei,  e demandalas  la  berdad; 
mias  le  dijeron,  “ Todas  fizimos  maldad, 

R Jusuf  fue  certero  manteniendo  lealtad  ; 

Nunca  quiso  boltariar  ni  le  did  la  boluntad.” 

Lebantose  Zaleja,  i empezo  de  decir, 

A todas  las  duennas  no  es  otra  de  mentir, 

Sino  de  seier  firmes  e la  berdad  dezir, 

Que  io  me  entremcti  por  mi  loado  dezir. 

“ Que  todas  hizimos  ierro  si  nos  balga  el  Criador, 

R le  tenemos  culpa,  Allah  es  perdonador ; 

■lusuf  es  fuero  de  ierro  e de  pecado  maior.” 

F.l  Rei,  quando  las  oiera,  maldiciolas  con  dolor. 

E fizo  saber  el  Rei  a Jusuf  la  manera, 

< 'omo  era  quite  cosa  berdadera 

De  todas  las  duennas  con  prueba  certera  ; 

R la  ora  salio  Jusuf  de  la  carcel  negra. 

15  en  el  portal  de  la  prision  fizo  fazer  un  escripto ; 

“ La  prision  es  fuesa  de  los  hombres  bibos 
R sitio  de  maldicion  e banco  de  los  abismos, 

R Allah  nos  cure  de  ella  a todos  los  amigos.’' 

Embiole  el  Rei  mui  rica  cabalgadura 
E gran  caballeria,  e abianlo  a cura ; 

Llebanlo  en  medio  como  Sennor  de  natura, 

E fueronse  al  palacio  del  buen  Rei  de  mesura. 

E el  Rei  como  lo  bido  luego  se  fue  a lebantar, 

E el  Rei  se  fue  a el,  que  no  solia  usar, 

15  asentolo  cabo  a el,  lo  que  no  solia  far, 

E en  la  ora  le  dijo  el  Rei,  “ Mi  fillol  te  quiero  far.’" 

E con  setenta  fablaches  el  Rei  le  obo  fablado, 

15  respondiole  Jusuf  a cadauno  pribado  ; 

E fablo  Jusuf  al  Rei  otro  fablado  e el  Rei  no  supo  dar  rccaudo. 
15  marabillose  el  Rei  de  su  saber  granado. 

Dijo  el  Rei  a Jusuf,  “ Ruegote,  ermano, 

Que  me  cuentes  el  suenno  que  te  dijo  mi  escancieno. 

Que  lo  oiga  de  tu  lengua,  i sea  io  alegrado, 

1 aderezaremos  nuestras  cosas  seiendo  librado.” 

E dijo  Jusuf  al  Rei,  “ Encomiendote  al  Criador, 

Que  de  aqueste  suenno  habras  mui  grande  onor  ; 

Mas  tu  as  menester  hombre  de  corazon, 

(2ue  ordene  tu  ficienda  c la  guie  con  balor. 

“ Mas  adreza  tu  ficienda  como  io  te  he  fablado. 

Que  el  pan  de  la  tierra  todo  seia  alzado, 

El  de  los  annos  buenos  para  el  tiempo  afortunado, 

Que  de  sede  e de  fambre  todo  el  mundo  sea  aquejado. 

“ Berna  toda  la  gente  en  los  tiempos  faltos, 

E mercaran  el  pan  de  los  tus  alzados 
Por  oro  e plata  e cuerpos  e algos, 

De  manera  que  sereis  Sennor  de  altos  i de  bajos.” 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


44 


E el  Rei,  qimndo  esto  oiera,  comenzo  de  pensar  ; 

Jusuf,  como  le  bido,  bolbiole  a fablar, 

I dijole,  “ En  eso  no  pensedes,  que  Allah  lo  ha  de  libnir, 
Qiie  io  habre  de  ser  quien  lo  abre  de  guiar.” 

Dijo  cl  Rei,  “ 0 amigo,  e como  me  has  alegrado  r 
lo  te  lo  agradezco,  de  Allah  habras  grado, 

Que  tu  seras  aqiiel  por  quien  se  ensalzara  el  condado. 

1 que  de  hoi  adelante  te  dejo  el  reinado. 

“ Porque  tu  perteneces  mandar  el  reinado 
I a toda  la  gente  ibierno  e berano  ; 

Todos  te  ubedeceremos  el  joben  e el  cano, 

Como  las  otras  gentes  quiero  ser  de  garado. 

“ Porque  tu  lo  mereces,  de  Allah  te  benga  guianza  , 
Pero  ruegote,  amigo,  que  seias  en  amiganza, 

Que  me  buelbas  mi  reino  e no  pongas  dudanza, 

A1  cabo  de  dicho  tiempo  no  finques  con  mala  andanza. 

“ Con  aquesta  condicion  que  te  quedes  en  tu  estado, 
Como  Rei  en  su  tierra  mandando  i sentenciando, 

Que  asi  lo  mandare  hoi  por  todo  cl  reinado, 

Que  io  no  quiero  ser  ia  mas  Rei  llamado." 

I placiole  a Jusuf,  huholo  de  olorgar, 

T en  el  sitio  del  Rei  luego  se  ha  de  sentar, 

I mando  el  Rei  a la  gente  delante  del  humillar ; 
Firmemente  lo  guardaban  como  lo  debian  far. 

I quando  bido  Jusuf  la  luna  prima  i delgada 
En  el  seno  que  se  iha  con  planta  apresurada. 

Que  dentraban  los  annos  de  bentura  abastada, 

Mando  juntar  la  tierra  i toda  su  companna. 

I de  que  fueron  llegados  todos  sus  basallos, 

Fizoles  a saber  porque  eran  llegados, 

Que  se  fuesen  a sembrar  los  bajos  i altos, 

Que  sembrasen  toda  la  tierra  balles  e galachos. 

T fueronse  a sembrar  todos  con  cordura, 

Asi  como  mandaba  su  Sennor  de  natura  ; 

Benian  redoblados  con  bien  e con  bentura, 

1 marabillaronse  de  su  sabencia  pura. 

1 luego  mando  Jusuf  a todos  sus  maestros, 

Que  fiziesen  graneros  de  grandes  peltrechos, 

Mui  anchos  i largos,  de  mui  fuertes  maderos, 

Para  ad  alzar  el  pan  de  los  tiempos  certeros. 

Nunca  bieron  hombres  estancias  tamannas, 

Unas  encima  de  otras  que  semejaban  montannas, 

1 mando  segar  el  pan  ansi  entre  dos  talks, 

I ligar  los  fachos  con  cuerdas  delgadas. 

I facialos  poner  en  los  graneros  atados. 

Ansi  con  sus  espigas  que  fuese  bien  guardado, 

Que  no  i caiese  polilla  ni  nada  ubiese  cuidado  ; 

Cada  anno  lo  hizo  facer  ansi,  i fizieronlo  de  grado. 


LI. 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURF. 


[Ait.  H. 


44(i 


E tanto  llego  del  pan  que  no  le  fallaban  quantia, 

I’l  quando  bido  la  Inna  en  el  seno  que  se  iba, 

Que  dentraba  la  seca  de  mui  mala  guisa, 

Mando  que  no  sembrasen  de  pues  de  aquel  dia, 

Fasta  que  pasasen  otros  siete  annos  cumplidos 
Que  de  sete  e de  fambre  serian  fallecidos  ; 

I'l  no  i abia  aguas  de  cielo  nin  de  rios ; 

Ansi  como  lo  dijo  Jusuf,  asi  fueron  benidos. 

I puso  el  Rei  fieles  para  su  pan  bender, 

Buenos  e berdaderos  segun  el  su  saber, 

E mando  que  diesen  el  derecho,  ansi  lo  mando  fazer, 

E precio  subido  por  el  que  fiz  prender. 

E mando  a sus  lieles  que  bendiesen  de  grado, 

El  uno  a los  de  la  tierra,  e el  otro  a los  de  fuera  del  reinado, 
A cada  guno  demandasen  nuebas  de  do  eran  pribados, 

O,  si  eran  de  la  tierra,  que  no  les  diesen  recaudo. 

Que  a pocos  de  dias  las  tierras  fueron  bacias 
T)e  todo  el  pan  e mercaderias, 

E no  ia  i abia  que  comer  en  cibdades  ni  en  billas. 

E mercaban  de  Jusuf  el  que  sabian  las  guaridas. 

Los  primeros  annos  con  dinero  e moblo  mercaron, 
T>lebaron  plata  e oro  e todo  lo  acabaron, 

E luego  en  pues  de  aquello  la  criazon  ia  lebaron, 

E no  les  basto  aquello,  que  mucha  res  ia  llebaron. 

Que  al  seteno  anno  bendieron  los  cuerpos, 

E fueron  fodos  catibos  todos  bibos  e muertos. 

E todo  bolbio  al  Rei  las  tierras  e los  pueblos, 

I estendiose  la  fambre  en  reinos  estrangeros. 

Pues,  quando  lo  bido  Jusuf  todo  a su  mandar, 

E todos  los  catibos  que  podia  bender  o dar, 

Bolbiose  al  Rei  e fuele  a fablar ; 

Dijo,  “ Que  te  parece,  Rei,  de  lo  que  me  has  bisto  i'ar.’’ 

E dijole  el  Rei,  “ Tu  aras  por  el  reinado, 

Porque  tu  mereces  mandar  el  condado, 

Porque  tu  perteneces  mandar  el  reinado, 

Que  io  no  quiero  ser  ia  mas  Rei  llamado." 

Dijo  Jusuf  al  Rei  aquesta  razon  ; 

“ lo  fago  franco  a todos  e quito  con  onor 
la  tu  tu  reismo  con  todo  Sennor ; 

La  ora  dijo  el  Rei,  “ Eso  no  seria  razon, 

“ Que  no  me  lo  consintiria  el  mi  corazon, 

Que  tan  noble  sabencia  fuese  a baldon  ; 

Antes  de  oi  adelante  quiero  que  tu  seias  Sennor." 

E bido  Jusuf  la  fambre  apoderada, 

Que  por  toda  la  tierra  era  tan  encargada  ; 

Entendio  que  en  la  tierra  de  su  padre  seria  llegada  ; 

Puso  ia  regimiento  como  la  nueba  fuese  arribada. 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


44 


Mas  a pocos  de  dias  la  fambre  fiie  llegada 
.V  tierra  de  Jacob  e su  barba  onrrada  ; 

Tenia  mucha  gente  e una  moier  guardada. 

Dijo  Jacob,  “ Filhos,  io  he  sentido 
(iue  en  tierras  de  Egito  hai  un  Rei  cunplido. 

Bueno  e berdadero,  franco  i entendido, 

E tiene  mucho  pan  partido  e bendido. 

“ Querria  que  tomasedes  deste  nuestro  abcr. 

E que  fueseis  luego  ad  aqucl  Rei  a ber, 

Contadle  nuestra  cuita  e querra  bos  creier, 

Con  la  aiuda  de  Allah  querra  a bos  bender.’’ 

Dijeron  sus  filhos,  “ Placemos  de  grado  ; 

Tremos  a beier  ad  aquel  Rei  onrrado, 

E beremos  la  su  tierra  e tambien  el  su  reinado, 

E,  con  la  aiuda  de  Allah,  el  nos  dara  recaudo.’’ 

De  que  llegaron  a la  tierra  abistada, 

Preguntaron  por  el  Rei  do  era  su  posada  ; 

Dijo  un  escudero,  “ Aqui  i es  su  niorada  ; 

Io  bos  dare  del  pan  e tambien  de  la  cebada. 

“ Que  io  soi  fiel  del  Rei,  que  bendo  el  pan  alzado 
-V  los  de  fuera  del  reino,  a los  otros  no  me  es  mandado  ; 
Decidme  de  donde  sois,  e libraros  e de  grado, 

O,  si  sois  de  aquesta  tierra,  no  bos  dare  recaudo. 

“ Decid  me  de  donde  sois  o de  que  lugar, 

Porque  podais  deste  pan  llebar, 

PI  dare  a cada  guno  quanto  querais  mercar, 

Segun  el  dinero  le  hare  io  mesurar.” 

I ellos  le  dijeron  todos  sus  nombres, 

E la  tierra  de  do  eran,  e como  eran  ermanos. 

P’ilhos  de  Jacob  e de  Ishac  mui  amados, 

En  Cherusalem  alii  eran  fincados. 

Ed  entro  el  escudero  al  Rei  e contestole  la  razon, 

E de  que  logar  e de  qual  morgon, 

E filhos  de  Profeta  de  buena  generacion  ; 

Sennor,  si  tu  lo  mandas  libraries  e con  amor." 

E mando  el  Rei  que  entrasen  delante  del  pribado. 

E que  les  diesen  de  comer  del  maior  pescado, 

E que  los  guardasen  por  todo  el  reinado, 

E no  los  dejasen  ir  tobiesen  su  mandado. 

E el  Rei  como  los  bido  obo  placer  eon  ellos, 

PI  mandose  aderezar  el  Rei  de  unos  bestidos  belles, 

PI  mil  Caballeros  al  costado  esquerro  e mil  al  derecho. 

E de  una  parte  placer  e de  otra  gran  despecho. 

Los  bestidos  que  traia  eran  de  gran  balor, 

Plran  de  oro  e de  seda  e de  fermosa  labor, 

E traia  piedras  preciosas  de  que  salia  claror, 

Mas  traia  algalia  e mui  rico  golor. 


448 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITER ATUKK 


[Api>.  H 


E mando  qued  entrasen  a beier  su  figura, 

E dieronle  salbacion  segun  su  catadura, 

E mandolos  asentar  con  bien  i apostura, 

E marabillaronse  de  su  buena  bentura. 

Elios  estando  en  piedes  i el  Rei  parado 
E bclos  el  Rei  fieramente  catando, 

I ellos  no  se  dudaban  nin  de  abian  cuidado, 
Retrobalos  el  Rei  de  amor  e de  grado. 

E de  que  bieron  al  Rei  bella  su  catadura, 
Judas  dijo,  “ Ermanos,  oid  mi  locura, 

Temome  de  este  Rei  e de  su  encontradura, 
Uoguemosle  que  nos  embie  por  mesura.” 

For  mucho  que  le  dijeron  el  no  lo  quiso  far, 
Fasta  el  tercero  dia  alii  los  fizo  estar, 

Fizoles  mueba  onrra,  quanta  les  pudo  far, 

Ansi  como  a filhos  los  mandaba  guardar. 

lia  mesura  del  pan  de  oro  era  labrada, 

Fi  de  piedras  preciosas  era  estrellada, 

I era  de  ber  toda  con  guisa  enclabada, 

Que  fazia  saber  al  Rei  la  berdad  apurada. 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  nuebas  les  demandaba. 

La  mesura  en  su  mano  que  se  la  meneaba, 
Disiendoles  el  Rei  que  mirasen  lo  que  ablaban, 
Que  si  dezian  mentira  ella  lo  declaraba ; 

Quien  con  el  Rei  abla  guardese  de  mentir, 
Ni  en  su  razon  no  quisiere  mentir, 

Porque,  quando  lo  fazia,  haciala  retinir, 

I ella  le  dezia  berdad  sin  cuentradecir. 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ De  quien  sedes  fdhos, 

0 de  que  linage  sois  benidos? 

Beos  io  de  gran  fuerza  fermosos  e cumplidos, 
Quiero  que  me  lo  digades  e seremos  amigos.” 

Ellos  le  dijeron,  “ Nosotros,  Sennor, 

Somos  de  Profeta,  creientes  al  Criador, 

De  Jacob  somos  filhos,  creientes  al  Criador, 

E benimos  por  pan  si  hallamos  bendedor.” 

E firio  el  Rei  en  la  mesura  e fizola  sonar, 
Ponela  a su  orelha  por  oir  e guardar ; 

Dijoles,  e no  quiso  mas  dudar, 

“ Segun  dize  la  mesura  berdad  puede  estar.” 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Quantos  sos,  araados?  ” 
Ellos  le  dijeron,  “ Eramos  doze  ermanos, 

1 al  uno  se  comio  el  lobo  segun  nos  cuidamos, 

E el  otro  queda  con  el,  su  amor  acabado.” 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Prometo  al  Criador, 

Sino  por  acatar  a buestro  padre  e sennor, 
lo  os  tendria  presos  en  cadena  con  dolor, 
jMas  por  amor  del  biejo  enbiaros  e con  onor.” 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


449 


Elios  dijeron,  “ Sennor,  rogamoste  en  amor, 

Por  el  Sennor  del  mundo  que  te  dio  onrra  e balor, 
Nos  quieras  embiar  a nueso  padre  e sennor, 

I abras  galardon  e merced  del  Criador. 

“ E no  cates  a nos,  mas  al  biejo  de  nueso  padre, 
Por  que  es  ombre  mui  biejo  e flaco,  en  berdad, 

Que  si  tu  le  conocieses  querriaslo  onrrar, 

Porque  es  ombre  mui  sano  e de  buena  boluntad.” 

“ lo  no  cato  a bosotros,  mas  a quien  debo  mirar  ; 

E por  aquel  ombre  bueno  me  benides  a rogar, 

Allah  me  traiga  en  tiempo  que  io  lo  pueda  onrrar, 
Que,  como  faze  filho  a padre,  io  asi  lo  quiero  far. 

“ Saludadme  al  biejo,  a bueso  padre  el  cano, 

I que  me  embie  una  carta  con  el  chico  bueso  ermano, 
E que  fue  de  su  tristeza  que  a tornado  en  bano, 

E si  aquesto  olbidas  no  os  daremos  grano. 

“ Mas  en  bosotros  no  me  fio,  ni  me  caie  en  grado  ; 
Mas,  porque  a mi  sea  cierto,  quede  el  uno  restado, 
Ilasta  que  benga  la  carta  con  el  chico  bueso  ermano  ; 
I en  esto  echad  suertes  qual  quedara  arrestado.” 

E caio  la  suerte  a uno  que  dezian  Simeon, 

El  que  corto  la  soga  a Jusuf  la  sazon, 

Quando  lo  echaron  en  el  pozo  i caio  alii  el  baron, 

E ubo  de  fincar  alii  con  la  dicha  condicion. 


E luego  el  Rei  mando  la  moneda  a ellos  ser  tornada, 
E luego  a cada  uno  en  su  saco  ligada, 

E ellos  no  se  dudaban  nin  de  abian  cuidado, 

T fizolo  el  Rei  porque  tornasen  de  grado. 

I espidieronse  del  Rei,  e binieron  mui  pagados, 

E contaron  al  su  padre  del  Rei  e sus  condados, 

Que  nunca  bieron  tal  Rei  e de  tantos  basallos, 

E de  buena  manera  e de  consejos  sanos  ; 

E que  se  berificaba  en  todo  su  afar 
E su  padre  Jacob  en  onrra  e saber, 

Quien  no  lo  conociese  e lo  fuese  a ber, 

Entenderia  que  es  Profeta,  abrialo  a creier. 

Desataron  los  sacos  del  trigo  e ubieron  catado, 
Fallaron  la  quantia  que  ubieron  llebado  ; 

Dijeron  a su  Padre,  “ Este  es  ombre  abonado, 

Que  sobre  toda  la  onrra  la  quantia  nos  a tornado. 

“ Mas  sepades.  Padre,  que  el  os  embia  a rogar, 

Que  le  embies  a bueso  filho  e non  le  querais  tardar. 
Con  una  carta  escripta  de  todo  bueso  afar  ; 

Padre,  si  no  nos  lo  dades,  no  nos  cabe  mas  tornar. 


“ Ni  nos  dara  del  pan,  ni  seremos  creidos. 
Padre,  si  nos  lo  dades  seremos  guaridos, 
Ternemos  nuestra  fe  i seremos  creidos, 

E traeremos  del  pan  e ganaremos  amigos.” 

57 


* 


VOL.  III. 


LL 


450 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Dijoles  el  Padre,  “ No  lo  podria  mandar ; 

Este  es  mi  bida  e con  el  me  e de  conortar, 

Ni  en  bosoh'os  io  no  quiero  fiar, 

Porque  antes  de  agora  me  obiestes  a falsia. 

“ Quando  llebastes  a Jusuf,  no  me  lo  tornastes, 
Quebran tastes  buestra  fe  e buestro  omenage, 
Perdistes  a mi  filho  como  desleales  ; 
lo  quiero  me  guardar  de  todas  buestras  maldades.” 

Por  mucho  que  le  dijeron  el  no  lo  quiso  far, 

Ni  por  ninguna  bia  lo  quiso  otorgar  ; 

Obieronme  de  sofrir  e no  ia  quisieron  tornar 
Easta  que  el  pan  fue  comido  e no  ia  abia  que  amasar. 

E la  ora  tornaron  a su  padre  a rogar 
Que  les  diese  a su  ermano  e los  quiera  guiar, 

Que  al  buen  Rei  prometieron  de  sin  el  no  tornar, 

E quellos  lo  guardarian  sin  ninguna  crueldad. 

Tanto  le  dijeron  e le  fueron  a rogar, 

E biendo  la  gran  fortuna  hubolo  de  otorgar, 

I ellos  le  prometieron  de  mui  bien  le  guardar, 

E de  no  bolber  sin  el,  jura  le  fueron  a far. 

I a uno  de  sus  filhos  fizo  facer  un  escripto, 

En  el  qual  decia,  “ A tu  Rei  de  Egipto 
Salud  e buen  amor  de  Jacob  el  tristo  ; 
lo  te  agradezco  tu  fecho  e tu  dicto. 

“ A lo  que  me  demandas  que  fue  de  mi  estado, 
Sepas  que  mi  bejez  e mi  bien  e logrado, 

0 la  mi  ceguedad  que  ia  soi  quebrantado, 

Primero  por  favor  del  Criador  onrrado. 

“ E por  Jusuf  mi  filho,  parte  de  mi  corazon, 

Aquel  que  era  fuerza  de  mi  en  toda  sazon, 

1 era  mi  amparo,  e perdilo  sin  razon. 

No  se  triste  si  es  muerto  o bibo  en  prision. 

“ Entiendo  que  soi  majado  del  Rei  celestial, 

I ansi  que  deste  mi  filho  tomes  mancilla  e pesar, 

E lo  que  io  te  ruego  como  a Rei  natural, 

Que  me  buelbas  a mi  filho  que  por  el  soi  io  mortal. 

“ Que  si  no  por  este  filho  io  ia  seria  finado, 

Que  el  me  daba  conuerto  de  Jusuf  el  mi  amado  ; 

Io  te  lo  embio  en  fe  que  me  lo  tomes  pribado, 

En  guardete  el  Allah  Sennor  apoderado.” 

De  que  la  carta  fue  fecha,  dijolos  el  de  grado, 

“ Filhos,  los  mis  filhos,  cumplid  el  mi  mandado  ; 

No  entreis  por  una  puerta  mas  por  muchas  pribado, 
Porque  seria  major  porque  ansi  lo  e probado.” 

Despidieronse  de  su  padre  e fueron  con  alegria, 
Caminaron  todos  juntos  la  noche  i el  dia, 

E llegaron  a la  cibdad  con  la  claror  del  dia, 

I el  Rei  como  lo  supo  ubo  gran  mejoria. 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSfi. 


451 


/ 


E mandose  aderezar  el  Rei  de  ricos  bestidos, 

I a toda  su  gente  mas  ricas  cabalgaduras, 

En  balsamiento  de  oro,  e safomerios  de  gran  mesura, 
De  diversas  maneras  i oloros  de  gran  altura. 

Quando  fue  acabado  lo  que  el  Rei  obo  mandado, 
Mando  qued  entrascii  delante  de  el  pribado  ; 

E quando  ellos  por  la  corte  iban  dentrando, 

Echoles  palmas  el  chico  en  las  golores  de  grado. 

E besoles  por  su  cara  e por  su  bestidura  ; 
Rautabanlo  los  otros  que  hacia  gran  locura, 

Diziendo,  “ Que  baces,  loco  de  sin  cordural 
Eutiendes  que  por  ti  ban  puesto  aquesta  fermosural  ” 

Dijoles,  “ Ermanos,  ruegoos  no  bos  quejades, 

Oid  mi  razon  que  luego  lo  sabredes, 

Mas  combieneos,  ermanos,  que  os  aparejedes, 

Porque  entienda  el  Rei  que  parientes  buenos  tenedes.” 

E conocieron  todos  que  tenia  razon  ; 

Tomaron  su  consejo  como  de  buen  baron, 

E fueron  delante  del  Rei  con  buena  condicion ; 

De  parte  del  padre  era  su  generacion. 

Tanto  era  el  Rei  de  apuesto  que,  no  lo  conocian, 
Unos  certificaban  i otros  no  podian, 

I el  Rei  se  sonrrio  e dijo,  que  querian, 

0 de  que  tierra  eran,  que  buena  gente  parecian. 

I ellos  le  dijeron  del  afar  pasado, 

De  como  traian  la  carta  con  el  chico  su  ermano, 

Ansi  como  prometieron  con  omenage  dado  ; 

Piisieronle  delante  e placiole  de  grado. 

Praia  con  el  una  carta  escripta 
Del  estado  de  su  padre  e de  su  bida  feita  ; 

El  Rei  quando  la  leio  lloro  con  gran  mancilla, 

1 encubriose  de  los  otros  que  ellos  no  lo  beian. 

E luego  mando  el  Rei  a todos  sus  menesteres, 

E de  enbarillamiento  de  oro  henchesen  las  mesas, 

E otras  tantas  de  plata  de  dibersas  maneras, 

E mandoles  asentar  a que  comiesen  en  ellas. 

E de  que  fueron  sentados  mando  que  los  sirbiesen, 

E mando  el  Rei  que  de  dos  en  dos  comiesen. 

Ansi  como  nacieron  que  ansi  lo  fiziciesen, 

Por  que  a el  le  parecia  a que  no  se  ende  estobiesen. 

De  que  bieron  de  comer  entre  dos  una  escodilla 
Hubo  de  fincar  el  chico  con  su  mano  en  la  mexilla, 
Porque  fincaba  solo  triste  con  mancilla, 

Por  tristeza  de  su  ermano  que  eran  de  una  nacida. 

E bedosele  el  comer  por  dolor  de  su  ermano, 

Porque  comia  cada  guno  con  su  par  ermano, 

Llorando  con  tristeza  e el  su  meollo  cano, 

E dejo  el  comer  el  lilho  del  cano. 


452 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE, 


[Apf.  H 


Quando  aquesto  ubieron  fecho  caio  amortecido, 

E el  Rei  quando  lo  bido  a el  fue  arremetido, 

Tomolo  de  la  inano  i onrrole  el  balido. 

Dijo  el  Rei,  “ Amigo,  quien  te  a ferido  1 ” 

Dijo  el,  “ Bos  soi,  Sennor,  cumplido, 

Que  me  mandaste  a mi  ermano  el  balido, 

El  qual  mi  corazon  no  lo  echo  en  olbido.” 

Dijo  el  Rei,  “ Amigo,  quieres  me  perdonar 
Que  io  no  sabia  quien  eras  ni  de  que  lugar, 

Plies  que  tu  fmcas  solo  abrete  de  acompannar, 

En  lugar  de  tu  ermano  con  tu  quiero  iantar.” 

Sirbiole  el  Rei  de  buena  boluntad, 

E mando  que  le  parasen  mesa  de  gran  beldad, 

Que  quiere  comer  con  el  que  le  abia  piedad, 

Tanta  fue  la  bondad  del  Rei  i onrra  que  le  fue  a dar. 

Que  le  quito  la  ira  e comio  con  el  de  grado  ; 

Sus  ermanos  que  lo  bieron  tomaron  mal  cuidado, 

E por  inbidia  quisieron  aberlo  matado, 

Disiendo  unos  a otros,  “ Aqueste  nuestro  ermano 

“ Alla  con  nuestro  padre  luego  fara  grandia 
De  que  seremos  en  nuestra  tierra  el  todabia, 

‘ lo  comi  con  el  Rei  porque  lo  merecia, 

I aquestos  a mis  piedes  de  noche  e de  dia.’  ” 

Dijole  el  Rei,  si  abia  moier  e filho  ; 

I el  le  dijo,  “ E moier  con  tres  ninnos ; 

Por  deseo  de  Jusuf  puseles  nombres  piadosos, 

El  qual  mi  corazon  no  lo  echa  en  olbido. 

“ A1  uno  dizen  Lobo,  i al  otro  dizen  Sangre, 

1 al  otro  dizen  Jusuf,  filho  de  buena  madre ; 

Esto  porque  dijeron  mis  ermanos  a mi  padre, 

Que  el  lobo  maldito  en  Jusuf  se  fue  afartado. 

“ Traieron  su  sangre  en  su  camisa  clara, 

E io  con  aquestos  nombres  no  olbido  su  cara  ; 

Pero  no  le  olbido  de  noche  ni  de  dia  encara, 

Porque  el  era  mi  bida  i era  mi  amparo. 

“ Nacimos  dambos  juntos  en  el  bientre  de  mi  madre, 
I ubose  de  perder  en  el  tiempo  de  mi  padre  ; 

No  se  triste  si  es  muerto  o bibo  en  tierra  o mar  ; 
Habeismelo  mandado  e fizisteme  pesar.” 

I aquejosele  al  Rei  a la  ora  el  corazon, 

I quiso  echar  boces  i encubrir  la  razon, 

I tomolo  de  la  mano  i apartolo  a un  rincon, 

I dijole  el  Rei  i ablo  como  baron. 

Dijole  el  Rei,  “ Conoces  me,  escuderol” 

I el  le  dijo,  “ No  a fe,  caballero.” 

Dijo,  “ Io  soi  Jusuf,  io  soi  tu  ermano  certero.” 

I abrazaronse  dambos  i andarian  un  millero. 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


453 


Tan  to  tomo  del  gozo  con  Jusuf  su  ermano, 

Que  caio  amortecido  el  su  miollo  bano, 

I el  Rei  como  le  bido  tomole  de  la  mano, 

Dijoles,  “ No  haias  miedo  mientras  io  seia  sano." 

Apartolo  el  Rei  i dijole  esta  razon  ; 

“ Io  quiero  que  finques  con  mi  en  toda  sazon, 

No  lo  sabra  ninguno,  muger  ni  baron, 

Io  acerlo  e con  buen  arte  e mui  buena  razon. 

“ E por  far  lo  mas  secreto  te  fago  sabidor, 

Porque  non  aias  miedo  ni  ningun  temor, 

Io  mandare  meter  la  mesura  de  balor 
Dentro  en  el  tu  saco,  i esto  por  tu  amor.” 

Ninguno  sabia  del  Rei  la  puridad, 

I embioles  a todos  de  buena  boluntad  ; 

Caminaron  todos  juntos  toda  la  ermandad, 

E de  alii  oieron  boces  de  gran  crueldad. 

E pararonse  todos  a ber  que  querian, 

E bieron  que  era  el  Rei  con  gente  que  corrian, 
Diciendo,  “ Guardaos,  traidores,  que  abeis  echo  falta  ; 
Mala  obra  obrastes  al  Rei  todabia.” 

Quedaronse  todos  cada  guno  espantado 
Del  dicho  que  oieron  a tan  mal  airado, 

E dijeron  todos,  “ Aun  ganades  gran  pecado 
De  llamarnos  ladrones,  no  siendo  probado. 

“Decidnos  que  queredes  o que  demandades, 

0 que  os  han  furtado  que  ansi  bos  quejades.” 

E ellos  les  dijeron,  “ La  mesura  bos  tomastes. 

La  que  decia  al  Rei  todas  las  berdades. 

“ Dela  quien  la  tiene,  i albricias  le  daremos, 

Un  cafiz  de  trigo  del  mejor  que  tenemos.” 

1 ellos  los  dijeron,  “ Por  la  fe  que  tenemos. 

No  somos  malfautores  que  nos  no  lo  faremos. 

“No  benimos  de  natura  de  fazer  desguisado. 

No  lo  abemos  fecho  en  el  tiempo  pasado, 

Esto  bien  sabedes,  pues  nos  lo  abeis  probado  ; 

No  nos  aquejeis  aquejamiento  airado.” 

E dijo  un  caballero  aquesta  razon  ; 

“ Amigos,  si  mentedes,  que  sera  en  gualardon?  ” 

I ellos  le  dijeron,  “ Catebo  quede  el  ladron 
Al  uso  de  la  tierra  con  mui  buena  razon.” 

Buscaron  los  sacos  del  trigo  e cada  uno  pribado, 
Dejaronse  en  tal  mente  el  del  chico  atado  ; 

Sus  ermanos  de  que  lo  bieron  tomaron  mal  cuidado, 
Porque  como  su  saco  no  le  abian  buscado. 

Dijeron  al  Rei  i tambien  a su  caudillo, 

Porque  no  abian  buscado  el  saco  de  su  ermanillo ; 
Dijeron  ellos,  “ Antes  bamos  al  castillo  ”; 

E ellos  mismos  le  buscaron  e fallaron  el  furtillo. 


454 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[App.  H. 


E de  que  bieron  ellos  todos  los  ermanos 
Que  era  la  mesura,  quedaron  espantados ; 

Dijeron,  “ O ermano,  como  nos  as  abellado, 

Que  te  abe  acontecido  quedamos  desonrrados.” 

Uijo,  “ Ermanos,  ruegoos  no  bos  quejedes  ; 

Oidme  razon  que  luego  lo  beredes, 

Que  io  culpa  no  bos  tengo  e luego  lo  otorguedes  ; 

No  lo  querrio  far  por  quanto  bosotros  tenedes. 

“ Mas  acuerdeseos,  ermanos,  quando  fallastes  la  quantia 
Cada  uno  en  su  saco  no  supiendola  aquel  dia. 

Si  aquello  bosotros  furtastes  de  noche  o de  dia 
Ansi  e furtado  io  la  mesura  todabia 

“ Si  dezis  que  no  sabeis,  tampoco  sabo  io, 

Que  aquesto  nunca  furte  ni  nunca  tal  fize  io.” 

Sus  ermanos  que  le  bieron  en  su  razonar 
E con  aquello  ubieron  a sosegar. 

Dijeron,  “ Sennor,  si  a furtado  no  lo  aias  a marabella, 
Que  un  ermano  tenia  de  mui  mala  pelelha ; 

Quando  era  chico  furtose  una  cinta  bella, 

Ellos  eran  de  una  madre,  e nosotros  non  de  aquella.” 

E sonriose  el  Rei  dentro  en  su  corazon 
De  la  palabra  mala  dicha  a sin  razon  ; 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Io  bos  dicho  la  razon, 

Que  todos  a mi  tenedes  figuras  de  ladron.” 

E mando  que  lo  tomasen  e lo  llebasen  rastrado, 

Mas  no  de  manera  que  ia  lo  abia  mandado. 

Mas  porque  sus  ermanos  fuesen  certificados, 

Que  lo  llebaban  preso  i esto  mal  de  su  grade. 

E mandolo  llebar  el  Rei  a su  camara  real 
Fasta  que  sus  ermanos  fuesen  a iantar  ; 

E quando  fueron  idos  e mandados  del  lugar, 

El  Rei  se  fue  aprisa  a su  ermano  a fablar. 

E tomaronse  los  dos  luego  de  mano  a mano, 

Disendole  el  Rei,  “ Io  soi  Jusuf  tu  ermano, 

El  que  fue  perdido  de  mi  padre  el  cano, 

El  qual  por  mi  es  triste  i io  por  el  no  soi  sano.” 

Mandolo  adereza  el  Rei  de  nobles  pannos  pribados, 

Los  mejores  que  abia  en  todos  sus  reinados ; 

Dijole  el  Rei,  “ Ermano  acabado, 

Ruegote  que  te  alegres  e fagas  lo  que  te  mando. 

“ Ir  tu  a nuesos  ermanos  i here  en  que  andan, 

0 que  querran  fazer,  e here  que  demandan.” 

Quando  el  Rei  fue  a ellos  fallolos  que  pensaban, 

Tristes  e mal  andantes  con  berguenza  andaban. 

Firio  el  Rei  en  la  mesa  como  de  primero ; 

El  son  escuitaba  el  buen  Rei  berdadero, 

Disendoles,  “ Que  dize  este  son  certerol  ” 

1 dijeronle  ellos,  “ No  lo  entendemos  a fe,  caballero.” 


No.  I.] 


POEMA  DE  JOSfe. 


455 


“ Dize  aqueste  son,  que  todos  abeis  pecado 
De  setenta  annos  aca,  que  no  os  abeis  tornado.” 

E comenzaron  de  plorar  e dijeron,  “ Sennor  onrrado, 
Quierenos  perdonar  e del  maior  ende  abras  grado. 

“ E no  cates  a nos,  que  andamos  en  bano. 

Mas  cata  a nueso  padre  que  ia  es  anciano, 

Que  si  tu  le  conocieses  a nueso  padre  el  cano, 

Luego  le  embiaras  al  preso  nueso  ermano.” 

E quando  oiera  el  nombre  de  Jacob  nombrar 
Afligiosele  el  corazon  i el  Rei  cuido  llorar ; 

Dijoles,  “ Amigos,  sino  fuera  por  acatar 
A bueso  padre  Jacob,  io  bos  faria  matar.” 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Id  buesa  carrera  ; 

No  bos  e menester  por  ninguna  manera ; 

Bueso  padre  me  rogo  por  su  carta  berdadera 
Que  luego  os  embiase  en  toda  manera.” 

Bolbieronse  al  Rei  de  cabo  a rogar, 

Que  les  diese  a su  ermano  e los  quiera  guiar, 

Que  a su  padre  prometieron  de  sin  el  no  tornar, 

E que  tomase  al  uno  de  ellos  e lo  pusiese  en  su  lugar. 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Eso  no  seria  razon 
Que  io  tomase  al  catibo  e dejase  al  ladron ; 

Id  de  aqui ; no  me  enojeis  que  me  haiceis  gran  sermon, 

I empezad  de  caminar  que  no  abreis  mas  razon.” 

I apartaronse  a consejo  en  que  manera  farian, 

0 a su  padre  que  razon  le  darian, 

0 si  por  fuerza  de  alii  lo  sacarian, 

E la  fe  que  dieron  como  se  la  tendrian. 

Comenzo  de  dezir  Judas  el  maior, 

“ Id  a bueso  padre  e contadle  la  razon, 

Que  su  filho  ha  furtado,  fizo  nos  desonor, 

Que  el  Rei  lo  tiene  preso  por  furto  de  grand  balor. 

“ Porque  sepades,  ermanos,  que  io  de  aqui  no  partiria, 
Que  todos  le  prometimos  de  no  fazerle  falsia, 

Ni  a nueso  padre  mentir  no  le  poria  ; 

Fasta  que  el  Rei  lo  mande,  io  de  aqui  no  iria. 

“ Mas  fagamos  tanto,  si  nos  caie  en  grado, 

Bolbamos  al  Rei,  i roguemosle  pribado, 

I,  si  no  lo  quiere  fazer,  pongamos  i a recaudo, 
Conbatiremos  el  castillo  i en  la  cibdad  entramos. 

“ Io  fallo  en  la  cibdad  nuebe  barrios  granados, 

1 el  palacio  del  Rei  al  un  costado, 

Io  combatire  al  Rei  e matarle  e a recaudo, 

I bosotros  a la  cibdad  cada  uno  a su  barrio.” 

I dentro  Judas  al  Rei,  sannudo  como  un  leon, 

Dijo,  “ Ruegote,  Rei,  que  me  des  un  don, 

Que  me  des  a mi  ermano,  i abernos  gualardon, 

I,  sino  lo  quieres  fazer,  tomar  no  quieres  onor. 


456 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[App.  H. 


“ Que  si  echo  una  boz  como  faze  el  cabron, 

No  fincara  en  la  comarca  muger  ni  baron, 

Ni  aun  prennada  que  no  crie  la  sazon, 

Todos  amortecidos  caeran  a baldon.” 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Faced  lo  que  querrades, 

Que  en  mal  grade  os  lo  pongo,  si  bos  no  lo  fazedes, 

Que  si  bos  sois  de  fuerza,  otros  ne  fallaredes, 

Que  en  lugar  sois  agora  e menester  lo  abredes.” 

Judas  se  ensanno  de  una  sanna  mui  airada  ; 

El  tomo  una  muela  mucho  grande  i pesada, 

I echola  por  cima  del  muro  como  a una  manzana, 

I mandola  bolber  al  Rei  a su  lugar  sitiada. 

Allegose  el  Rei  a la  muela  pribado, 

T puso  el  pie  en  el  olhola  mui  irado, 

Mui  alta  por  cima  del  muro  denque  por  el  no  era  posada, 

E la  falda  no  era  arremangada. 

Judas  en  aquella  bora  empezose  de  ensannar, 

I el  Rei  como  lo  conocia  dejole  bien  hinchar, 

E,  quando  entendio  que  abia  de  baciar, 

Senno  a su  filho  que  lo  fuese  a tocar. 

E lebantose  su  filho  e fuele  a tomar, 

Delante  del  Rei  su  padre  lo  fue  a llebar, 

E luego  la  sanna  se  le  fue  a quitar, 

E tambien  la  fuerza  le  fue  a faltar. 

E fue  a buscar  a sus  ermanos  e non  de  bido  cosa ; 

“ En  mi  alma  me  a tocado  esta  criazon  donosa; 

Entiendo  que  es  criazon  de  Jacob  esta  barba  canosa ; ” 

E fuelos  a buscar  por  la  cibdad  donosa. 

E quando  los  fallo  dijo,  “ Ermanos,  quien  me  a tocado  ^ ” 
Elios  le  dijeron,  “ No  nos  a la  fe,  ermano.” 

Dijo,  “ Cierto  sois  segun  mi  cuidado 

De  la  crianza  de  Jacob  anda  por  el  mercado.” 

Alii  fablo  Jahuda  a todos  sus  ermanos, 

“ Este  es  el  consejo  de  los  ombres  males ; 

Quando  io  bos  decia  no  seiamos  ierrados, 

E no  me  quisisteis  creier,  caimos  en  los  lazos. 

“ Quando  io  dezia  algun  bien,  no  me  queriais  escuchar  ; 
De  mi  padre  me  pesa  quanto  me  puede  pesar ; 

Roguemos  al  Criador  que  nos  aia  piedad, 

E tambien  al  noble  Rei  que  nos  quiera  perdonar.” 

Alii  fue  a ablar  Judas  el  maior ; 

“ Bamos  delante  del  Rei  con  mui  fermosa  razon, 

E de  qualquiera  manera  demandemosle  perdon, 

Querria  que  fuesemos  fuera  del  Reino  del  Leon.” 

E fueronse  al  Rei  e dijeronle  esta  razon  ; 

‘ ‘ Quieres  acatar  primero  al  Criador, 

I a nueso  padre  Jacob,  de  Allah  es  conocedor.” 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Guerra  me  izistes  e error. 


No.  I,] 


POEMA  DE  JOSE. 


45 


“ lo  quiseos  mostrar  mi  fuerza  i mi  bentura, 

E porque  todos  entendiesedes  con  seso  i cordura 
Que  la  nueslra  fuerza  sobra  por  natura  ; ” 

E perdonolos  el  Rei  i asentose  la  mesura. 

I ellos  estaban  alegres  porque  el  Rei  los  abia  perdonado ; 

E dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Amigos,  la  mesura  me  a fablado, 

E dize  que  ad  aquel  bueso  ermano  en  un  pozo  lo  abeis  echado. 
lo  creo  que  lo  fizistes  e eso  mas  de  grado. 

“ E quando  lo  sacastes  por  mal  precio  fue  bendido, 

Distes  lo  por  beinte  dineros  como  abatido.” 

“ Rogamoste,  Sennor,  que  seamos  creidos. 

No  creia  tales  malezas,  de  tal  parte  no  benimos.” 

E saco  el  Rei  una  carta  que  tenia  en  alzado, 

Escripta  en  Ebraico  del  tiempo  pasado, 

De  como  lo  bendieron  e lo  ubieron  mercado, 

E tubola  guardada  el  balido  fasta  de  aquel  estado. 

Judas  tomo  la  carta  e leio  dictados, 

Llorando  de  sus  olhos  todos  marabillados, 

Disiendo,  “ Quien  dio  esta  carta  al  Rei  en  sus  mauos^  " 
Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ No  seiades  dudados.” 

Dijeron,  “ Sennor,  aquesta  es  carta 
Del  catibo  que  teniamos  i dimosla  por  falta.” 

Judas  leio  toda  aquella  carta  ; 

Dijoles  el  Rei,  “ Sois  de  mui  mala  barta.” 

E firio  el  Rei  en  la  mesa  como  de  primero 
I el  son  escuitaba  el  buen  Rei  berdadero, 

Disendoles  el  Rei,  “ Dice  este  son  certero, 

Que  aquel  bueso  ermano  es  bibo  e caballero. 

“ E que  sinifica,  que  el  cierto  no  es  muerto, 

E que  aun  bendra  con  mui  gran  conpuerto, 

E dira  a todas  las  gentes  los  que  le  abian  buelto, 

I a todos  los  de  la  tierra  los  que  le  an  fecho  tuerto. 

“ E dira  aqueste  son  que  todos  sois  pecadores, 

E que  a bueso  padre  izisteis  malas  labores, 

I que  es  la  su  tristeza  por  los  buesos  ierrores, 

Cada  dia  le  entristecedes  como  fazen  traidores." 

I el  Rei  quando  bido  aquesto  llamo  a sus  pribados. 

Que  llamasen  a los  ferreros  e les  cortasen  las  manos ; 

I ellos,  de  que  los  bieron  con  cuchillos  i mazos, 

Dijeron,  “ Somos  perdidos  por  nuesos  pecados.” 

E dijeron  al  Rei,  “ Si  nosotros  lo  biesemos. 

La  tierra  que  el  pisara  todos  la  besariamos ; 

Mas  conbiene  nos  que  nos  remediemos, 

E mejoremos  bentura  e todos  escaparemos.” 

E perdonolos  el  Rei  puesque  conocieron 
Que  andaban  ierrados,  e se  arrepintieron, 

E fizieron  buenas  obras  e ansi  lo  prometieron, 

E fueron  a su  padre,  e grande  alegria  fizieron. 

VOL.  III.  58 


M M 


V 


458 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H, 


Alii  se  fue  d,  quedar  Judas  i Simeon, 

I no  fueron  a su  padre  mas  de  oclio,  non  ; 

I el  padre,  quando  los  bido,  dijo  aquesta  razon, 

“ No  abedes  berguenza  de  muger  ni  de  baron. 

“ Qiie  son  de  buesos  ermanos  el  chico  e maior  e menor. 

Candela  de  mis  olhos  que  por  el  soi  con  dolor!  ” 

Dijeronle,  “ Padre,  la  mesura  f'urto  al  Emperador  ; 

El  Rei  lo  abria  muerto  sino  por  tu  amor. 

“ I qiiedan  por  tu  berguenza  Judas  i Simon, 

No  quisieron  benir  por  ninguna  razon.” 

E dijoles  el  Padre,  “ Benides  con  traicion, 

De  guisa  faredes  que  non  de  quedara  morgon. 

“ Cada  dia  menguades  e crece  mi  tristura, 

I aim  testiguades  firmemente  en  locura, 

Que  mi  filho  furto  al  Rei  la  mesura.” 

I dijeronle,  “ Padre,  lo  que  bimos  es  cierto  todabia.” 

E fizoles  una  carta  para  daquel  Rei  onrrado. 

Mas  le  enbiaba  a dezir  que  buscasen  a su  ermano, 

A Jusuf  el  chico,  el  mal  abenturado, 

Por  do  quiera  que  pasasen  siempre  abenturando. 

I dijeronle,  “ Padre,  bolbes  en  buesa  cordura ; 

Agora  nos  i mentades  de  muertos  sin  figura.” 

Dijoles,  “ Fared  lo  que  io  mando,  que  io  se  de  la  altura 
Lo  que  bosotros  no  sabeis,  de  buen  Sennor  de  natura.” 

*#**#* 

*#**#* 

There  is  little,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  early  narrative  po- 
etry of  any  modern  nation  better  worth  reading,  than  this  old 
Morisco  version  of  the  story  of  Joseph.  Parts  of  it  overflow 
with  the  tenderest  natural  affection  ; other  parts  are  deeply 
pathetic ; and  everywhere  it  bears  the  impress  of  the  extraor- 
dinary state  of  manners  and  society  that  gave  it  birth.  From 
several  passages,  it  may  be  inferred  that  it  was  publicly  recit- 
ed ; and  even  now,  as  we  read  it,  we  fall  unconsciously  into  a 
long-drawn  chant,  and  seem  to  hear  the  voices  of  Arabian 
camel-drivers,  or  of  Spanish  muleteers,  as  the  Oriental  or  the 
romantic  tone  happens  to  prevail.  I am  acquainted  with 
nothing  in  the  form  of  the  old  metrical  romance  that  is 
more  attractive,  — nothing  that  is  so  peculiar,  original,  and 
separate  from  every  thing  else  of  the  same  class. 


No.  11. 


LA  DANCA  GENERAL  DE  LOS  MUERTOS. 

TiiE  next  of  the  Inedita  is  the  “ Danza  General,”  whieli  I 
have  noticed,  (Vol.  I.  pp.  89-91,)  and  which  is  found  in  the 
Library  of  San  Lorenzo  del  Escorial,  MSS.,  Cas.  IV.,  Let.  b. 
No.  21.  In  note  27  on  the  passage  referred  to  I have  suggest- 
ed a reason  for  conjecturing  that  the  Spanish  poem  may  bc' 
taken  from  an  earlier  French  one ; but  I ought  to  add,  that, 
so  far  as  I am  aware,  this  ghastly  fiction  is  not  known  to 
exist  in  any  earlier  form,  than  that  in  which  it  appears  in  tliis 
Manuscript. 

Aqui  comienza  la  danza  general,  en  la  qual  tracta  como  la  muerte  dice  abisa 
a todas  las  criatnras,  que  pare  mientes  en  la  brevedad  de  su  vida,  e que  della 
mayor  cabdal  non  sea  fecho  que  ella  meresce.  E asy  mesmo  les  dice  e re- 
qniere  que  bean  e oyan  bien  lo  que  los  sabios  pedricadores  les  disen  e amono- 
stan  de  cada  dia,  dandoles  bueno  e sano  consejo,  que  puguen  en  fazer  buenas 
obras  por  que  ayan  conplido  perdon  de  sus  pecados.  E luego  syguientc,  mo- 
strando  por  espiriencia  lo  que  dise,  llama  e requiere  a todos  los  estados  del 
mundo,  que  vengan  de  su  buen  grado  6 contra  su  boluntad.  Comenzando,  disc 
ansy. 


DICE  DA  MUERTE. 

Yo  so  la  muerte  cierta  a todas  criaturas 
Que  son  e seran  en  el  mundo  durante  ; 
Demando  y digo,  o orbe,  porque  curas 
De  vida  tan  breve  en  punto  pasante  ; 

Plies  non  ay  tan  fuerte  nin  rescio  gigante, 
Que  deste  mi  arco  se  puede  amparar ; 
Conviene  que  mueras  quando  lo  tirar 
Con  esta  mi  frecha  cruel  traspasante. 

Que  locura  es  esta  tan  magniesta, 

Que  piensas  tu,  ome,  que  el  otro  morira 
Et  tu  quedaras  por  ser  bien  compuesta 
La  tu  complysion,  e que  durara  ? 

Non  eres  cierto,  sy  en  punto  verna 
Sobre  ty  a desora  alguna  corrupcion 
De  jandre  6 carbonco  6 tal  ynphycyon, 
Porque  el  tu  vil  cuerpo  se  desatara. 


460 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


0 piensas,  por  ser  manoebo  valiente 
O niiio  de  dias,  que  a lueile  estare, 

O fasta  que  llegues  a viejo  impotente 
La  mi  venida  me  detardare. 

Abisate  bien  que  yo  llegare 
A ty  a desora,  que  non  he  cuydado 
Que  tu  seas  mancebo  6 viejo  cansado, 

Que  qual  te  failure  tal  te  levare. 

lia  platica  muestra  ser  pura  berdad  ; 
Aquesto  que  digo,  syn  otra  fallencia, 

La  Santa  escriptura  con  5ertinidad 
Da  sobre  todo  su  firme  sentencia, 

A todos  disciendo,  fasced  penitencia, 

Que  a morir  avedes  non  savedes  quando  ; 

Sy  non  ved  el  frayre  que  esta  predicando, 
Mirad  lo  que  disce  de  su  grand  sabiencia. 

DICE  EL  PEDRICADOR. 

Seilores  honrados,  la  santa  escriptura 
Demuestra  e disce,  que  todo  ome  nascido 
Gostara  la  muerte,  maguer  sea  dura, 

Ca  truxo  al  mundo  un  solo  bocado, 

Ca  Papa  6 rey  6 obispo  sagrado, 

Cardenal  6 duque  6 conde  excelente, 

O emperador  con  toda  su  gente, 

Que  son  en  el  mundo  de  morir  han  forcado. 

BUENO  E SANO  CONSEJO. 

Seiiores,  punad  en  fascer  buenas  obras  ; 
Non  VOS  confiedes  en  altos  estados, 

Que  non  vos  valdran  thesoros  nin  doblas 
A la  muerte  que  tiene  sus  lasos  parados  ; 
Gemid  vuestras  culpas,  descid  los  pecados, 
En  cuanto  podades  con  satisfacion, 

Sy  queredes  aver  complido  perdon 
De  aquel  que  perdona  los  yerros  pasados. 

Fasced  lo  que  digo,  non  vos  detardedes, 
Que  ya  la  muerte  encomienza  a hordenar 
Una  danca  esquiva  de  que  non  podedes 
Por  cosa  ninguna  que  sea  escapar  ; 

A la  cual  disce,  que  quiere  levar 
A todos  nosotros  lancando  sus  redes  ; 

Abrid  las  orejas  que  agora  oyredes 
De  su  charambela  un  triste  cantar. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

A la  danqa  mortal  venit  los  nascidos, 

Que  en  el  mundo  sois,  de  qualquiera  estado  ; 
El  que  no  quisiere,  a fuerca  e amidos 
Fascer  le  he  venir  muy  toste  privado, 

Pues  que  ya  el  frayre  vos  ha  predicado, 

Que  todos  vayais  a fascer  penitencia  ; 

El  que  non  quisiere  poner  diligencia 
Por  mi  non  puede  ser  mas  esperado. 


No.  II.] 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


461 


PRIMERAMENTE  LLAMA  A SU  DANCA  A DOS  DONCELLAS. 

Esta  mi  dan^a  traye  de  presente 
Estas  dos  doncellas  que  vedes  fermosas  ; 

Ellas  vinieron  de  muy  mala  mente 
A oyr  mis  canciones  que  son  dolorosas  ; 

Mas  non  les  valdran  flores  ny  rosas, 

Nin  las  compostuvas  que  poner  solian  ; 

De  mi  si  pudiesen  partir  se  querrian, 

Mas  non  puede  ser,  que  son  mis  esposas. 

A estas  y a todos,  por  las  aposturas, 

Dare  fealdad  la  vida  partida, 

E desnudedad  por  las  vestiduras, 

Por  siempre  jamas  muy  triste  aborrida. 

O,  por  los  palacios,  dare  por  medida 
Sepulcros  escuros  de  dentro  fedientes ; 

E,  por  los  manjares,  gusanos  royentes 
Que  coman  de  dentro  su  came  podrida. 

E porque  el  santo  padre  es  muy  alto  senor 
E que  en  todo  el  mundo  non  ay  su  par, 

E desta  mi  danca  sera  guiador ; 

Desnude  su  capa,  comiencje  a sotar, 

Non  es  ya  tiempo  de  perdones  dar, 

Nin  de  celebrar  en  grande  aparato, 

Que  yo  le  dare  en  breve  mal  rato  ; 

Dancad,  padre  santo,  sin  mas  detardar. 

DICE  EL  PADRE  SANTO. 

; Ay  de  mi  triste ! que  cosa  tan  fuerte 
A yo,  que  tractaba  tan  grand  preslacia, 

Aber  de  pasar  agora  la  muerte, 

E non  me  valer  lo  que  dar  solia ; 

Beneficios  e honrras  e gran  seiioria 
Tobe  en  el  mundo,  pensando  vevir  ; 

Pues  de  ty,  muerte,  non  puedo  fuyr, 

Valme  Jesuchristo  e la  virgen  Maria. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Non  VOS  enojedes,  sefior  padre  santo, 

De  andar  en  mi  dan^a  que  tengo  ordenada 
Non  VOS  valdra  el  vermejo  manto ; 

De  lo  que  fuistes  abredes  soldada ; 

Non  VOS  aprovecha  echar  la  cruzada. 

Proveer  de  obispados,  nin  dar  beneficios  ; 

Aqui  moriredes  syn  ser  mas  bollicios. 

Dancad,  imperante,  con  cara  pagada. 

DICE  EL  E.MPERADOR. 

Que  cosa  es  esta  que  a tan  syn  pauor 
Me  lleva  a su  danca,  a fuerca,  sin  grado  ! 

Creo,  que  es  la  muerte,  que  non  ha  dolor 
De  ome  que  sea,  grande  6 cuytado. 

M 51  * 


462 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


No  hay  ningund  rey  nin  duque  esfor^ado, 

Que  della  me  pueda  agora  defender  ; 

Acorredme  todos  ; mas  non  puede  ser, 

Que  ya  tengo  della  todo  el  seso  turbado. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Emperador  muy  grande,  en  el  mundo  potente. 
Non  VOS  cuitedes,  ca  non  es  tiempo  tal 
Que  librar  vos  pueda  imperio  nin  gente, 

Oro,  nin  plata,  nin  otro  metal  ; 

Aqui  perderedes  el  vuestro  cabdal, 

Que  atbesorastes  con  grand  tyrania, 

Faciendo  batallas  de  noche  e de  dia. 

Morid,  non  curedes.  Venga  el  cardena. 

DICE  EL  CARDENAL. 

Ay,  madre  de  Dios,  nunca  pense  ver 
Tal  danca  como  esta  a que  me  fasen  yr ; 
Querrla,  si  pudiese,  la  muerte  estorcer, 

Non  se  donde  vaya,  comienco  a thremer. 
Siempre  trabaje  noctar  y escrevir 
For  dar  beneficios  a los  mis  criados ; 

Agora  mis  miembros  son  todos  torvados, 

Que  pierdo  la  vista  e non  puedo  oyr. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Reverendo  padre,  bien  vos  abise, 

Que  aqui  avriades  por  fuer^a  allegar 
En  esta  mi  daiuja  en  que  vos  fare 
Agora  ayna  un  poco  sudar  ; 

Pensastes  el  mundo  por  vos  trastornar 
Por  llegar  a papa  e ser  soberano  ; 

Mas  non  lo  seredes  aqueste  verano. 

\’'os,  rey  poderoso,  venit  a dancar. 

DICE  EL  REY. 

Valia,  valia,  los  mis  caballeros, 

Yo  non  querria  yr  a tan  baxa  dan^a  ; 

Llegad,  vos  con  los  ballesteros, 

Hamparadme  todos,  por  fuer9a  de  lan^a  ; 

Mas,  que  es  aquesto  que  veo  en  balan^a 
Acortarse  mi  vida  e perder  los  sentidos  ? 

El  coracon  se  me  quiebra  con  grandes  gemidos ; 
Adios,  mis  vasallos,  que  muerte  me  tran^a. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Ay,  fuerte  tirano,  que  siempre  robastes 
Todo  vuestro  reyno  6 fenchistes  el  area ; 

De  fazer  justicia  muy  poco  curastes, 

Segunt  es  notorio  por  vuestra  comarca ; 

Venit  para  mi,  que  yo  so  monarca, 

Que  prendere  a vos  e a otro  mas  alto  ; 

Llegat  a la  danca  cortes  en  un  salto  ; 

En  pos  de  vos  venga  luego  el  patriarca. 


No.  II,] 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


463 


DICE  EL  PATRIARCA. 

Yo  nunca  pense  venir  a tal  punto, 

Nin  estar  en  daiKja  tan  sin  piedad  ; 

Ya  me  van  privando,  segunt  que  barrunto, 

De  beneficios  e de  dignidad. 

0 home  mesquino  ! que  en  grand  ceguedad 
Andove  en  el  mundo  non  parando  mientes, 
Como  la  Muerte,  con  sus  duros  dientes, 

Roba  a todo  home  de  qualquier  edad. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Seiior  Patriarca,  yo  nunca  robe 
T'ln  alguna  parte  cosa  que  non  deva  ; 

De  matar  a todos  costumbre  lo  he  ; 

De  escapar  alguno  de  mi  non  se  atreva. 

Esto  VOS  gano  vuestra  madre  Eva 
Por  querer  gostar  fruta  derredada. 

Poned  en  recabdo  vuestra  cruz  dorada  ; 
Sygase  con  vos  el  Duque  antes  que  mas  veva. 

DICE  EL  DUQUE. 

0,  que  malas  nuevas  son  estas  syn  falla, 
Que  agora  me  trahen,  que  vaya  a tal  juego  ! 
Yo  tenia  pensado  de  faser  batalla ; 

Esperame  un  poco,  Muerte,  yo  te  ruego. 
vSy  non  te  detienes,  miedo  he,  que  luego 
Me  prendas  6 me  mates  ; abre  de  dexar 
Todos  mis  deleytes,  ca  non  puede  estar, 

Que  mi  alma  escape  de  aquel  duro  fuego. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Duque  poderoso,  ardit  e valiente. 

Non  es  ya  tiempo  de  dar  dilaciones  ; 

Andad  en  la  danca  con  buen  continente  ! 
Dexad  a los  otros  vuestras  guarniciones  ! 
Jamas  non  podredes  cebar  los  alcones, 
llordenar  las  justas,  nin  faser  torneos  ; 

Aqui  avran  fin  los  vuestros  deseos. 

Venit,  Arqobispo,  dexat  los  sermones  ! 

DICE  EL  ARCOBISPO. 

Ay,  Muerte  cruel,  que  te  meresci ! 

0 porque  me  llebas  tan  arrebatado  ? 

V^iviendo  en  deleytes  nunca  te  temi  ; 

Eiando  en  la  vida,  quede  enganado. 

Mas  sy  yo  bien  rrijera  mi  arcobispado, 

De  ti  non  oviera  tan  fuerte  temor. 

Mas  siempre  del  mundo  fuy  amador  ; 

Bien  se  que  el  infierno  tengo  aparejado. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Senor  Arqobispo,  pues  tan  mal  registres 
Vuestros  subditos  e cleresqia. 


464 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE 


[App  II 


Gostad  amargura  por  lo  que  comistes 
Manjares  diversos  con  grand  golosya. 

Estar  non  podredes  en  Santa  Maria 
Con  palo  Romano  en  pontifical ; 

Venit  a mi  dan(ja  pues  soes  mortal ! 

Pare  el  Condestable  por  otra  tal  via  ! 

DICE  EL  CONDESTABLE. 

Yo  vi  muchas  danijas  de  lindas  doncellas, 

He  dueilas  fermosas  de  alto  linaje, 

Mas,  segunt  me  paresce,  no  es  esta  dellas, 

Ca  el  thanedor  trahe  feo  visaje. 

Venit,  camarero  ! desid  a mi  paje, 

Que  trayga  el  caballo,  que  quiero  fuir, 

Que  esta  es  la  dan^a  que  disen  morir  ; 

Sy  della  escape,  thener  me  ban  por  saje. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Fuyr  non  conviene  al  que  ha  de  estar  quedo  ; 
Estad,  Condestable,  dexat  el  caballo! 

Andad  en  la  danca  alegre  muy  ledo, 

Syn  faser  rruydo,  ca  yo  bien  me  callo. 

Mas  verdad  vos  digo  que,  al  cantar  del  gallo, 
Seredes  tornado  de  otra  figura  ; 

Alii  perderedes  vuestra  fermosura. 

Venit  vos,  Obispo,  a ser  mi  vasallo  ! 

DICE  EL  OBISPO. 

Mis  manos  aprieto,  de  mis  ojos  lloro, 

Porque  soi  venido  a tanta  tristura  ; 

Yo  era  abastado  de  plata  y de  oro, 

He  nobles  palacios  e mucha  folgura  : 

Agora  la  Muerte,  con  su  mano  dura, 

Traherne  en  su  dan^a  medrosa  sobejo  ; 
Parientes,  amigos,  ponedme  consejo, 

Que  pueda  salir  de  tal  angostura  ! 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Obispo  sagrado,  que  fuestes  pastor 
He  animas  muchas,  por  vuestro  pecado 
A juicio  yredes  ante  el  Redentor, 

E daredes  cuenta  de  vuestro  obispado. 

Syempre  anduvistes  de  gentes  cargado, 

En  corte  de  rey  e fuera  de  ygreja. 

Mas  yo  gorsire  la  vuestra  pelleja. 

Venit,  Caballero,  que  estades  armado  ! 

DICE  EL  CABALLERO. 

A mi  non  paresce  ser  cosa  guisada, 

Que  dexe  mis  armas  e vaya  dan^ar 
A tal  danca  negra,  de  llanto  poblada, 

Que  contra  los  vivos  quesiste  hordenar. 

Segunt  estas  conviene  dexar 
Mercedes  e tierras  que  gane  del  rrey  ; 


/ 


I\o.  ll.J 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


465 


Pero,  a la  fyn,  sin  dubda  non  sey 
Qual  es  la  carrera  que  abre  de  levar. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Caballero  noble,  ardit,  e lijero, 

Fased  buen  semblante  en  vuestra  persona ! 
Non  es  aqui  tiempo  de  contar  dinero  ; 

0yd  mi  cancion,  por  qne  modo  entona  ! 
Aqui  VOS  fard  mover  la  athaona, 

E despues  veredes  como  pone  freno 
A los  de  la  banda  que  roban  !o  ageno. 
Dancad,  Abad  gordo,  con  vuestra  corona  ! 

DICE  EL  ABAD. 

Maguer  provechoso  so  a los  religiosos, 
De  tal  danca,  amigos,  yo  non  me  conlento  ; 
En  mi  celda  avia  manjares  sabrosos, 

De  ir  non  curava  comer  a convento. 

Darme  hedes  sygnado  como  non  consyento 
De  andar  en  ella,  ca  he  grand  rescelo, 

E,  sy  tengo  tiempo,  provoco  y apelo  ; 

Mas  non  puede  ser  que  ya  desatiento. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Don  Abad  bendicto,  folgado,  vicioso. 

Que  poco  curastes  de  vestir  ^elicio, 
Abracadme  agora,  seredes  mi  esposo, 

Dues  que  deseades  placeres  e vicio ; 

Ca  yo  so  bien  presta  a vuestro  servicio, 
Avedme  por  vuestra,  quitad  de  vos  safia, 
Que  miicho  me  plaze  en  vuestra  compafia. 
E VOS,  Escudero,  venit  al  oficio  ! 

DICE  EL  ESCUDERO. 

Dueiias  e doncellas,  aved  de  mi  duelo  ! 
Que  fasenms  por  fuer^a  dexar  los  amores, 
Echome  la  muerte  su  sotil  ansuelo, 
Fasenme  dancar  danca  de  dolores  ; 

Non  trahen  por  cierto  firmalles  nin  floies 
Los  que  en  ella  dancan,  mas  grand  fealdad; 
Ay  de  mi  cuytado  ! que  en  grand  vanidad 
Andove  en  el  mundo  sirviendo  seiiores. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Escudero  polido,  de  amor  sirviente. 
Dejad  los  amores  de  toda  persona ! 

Venit ! ved  mi  danqa  e como  se  adona  ! 

E a los  que  dancan  acompafiaredes. 

Pilirad  su  figura  ! tal  vos  tornaredes, 

Que  vuestras  amadas  non  vos  querraii  ver. 
Abed  buen  conorte  que  ay  ha  de  ser. 

Venit  vos.  Dean,  non  vos  corrcedes  ! 

59 


VOL.  III. 


466 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


DICE  EL  DEAN. 

Que  es  aquesto  que  yo  de  mi  seso  salgo  1 
Pense  de  fuyr  e non  fallo  carrera  ; 

Grand  venta  tenia  e buen  deanasgo 
E mucho  trigo  en  la  mi  panera. 

Allende  de  aquesto  estava  en  espera 
De  ser  proveido  de  algund  obispado  ; 

Agora  la  Muerte  enbiome  mandado, 

Mala  senal  veo,  pues  fasen  la  sera. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Don  rico  avariento,  Dean  muy  ufano, 

Que  vuestros  dineros  trocastes  en  oro, 

A pobres  e a viudas  cerrastes  la  mano 
E mal  despendistes  el  vuestro  tesoro  ; 

Non  quiero  que  estedes  ya  mas  en  el  coro  ; 
Salid  luego  fuera  sin  otra  peresa ! 

Yo  VOS  mostrare  venir  a pobresa. 

Venit,  Mercadero,  a la  dan5a  del  lloro  ! 

DICE  EL  MERCADERO. 

A quien  dexare  todas  mis  riquesas 
E mercadurias  que  traygo  en  la  mar  1 
Con  muchos  traspasos  e mas  sotilesas 
Gane  lo  que  tengo  en  cada  lugar ; 

Agora  la  Muerte  vinome  llamar  ; 

Que  sera  de  mil  Non  se  que  me  faga. 

0 Muerte,  tu  sierra  a mi  es  grand  plaga ! 
Adios,  mercaderos,  que  voyme  a finar ! 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

De  oy  mas  non  curedes  de  pasar  en  Elandes  ; 
Estad  aqui  quedo  e iredes  ver 
La  tienda  que  traygo  de  buvas  y landres ; 

De  gracia  las  do,  non  las  quiero  vender  ; 

Una  sola  dellas  vos  fara  caer 
De  palmas  en  tierra  dentro  en  mi  botica, 

E en  ella  entraredes,  maguer  sea  chica. 

E VOS,  Arcediano,  venid  al  tauer  ! 

DICE  EL  ARCEDIANO. 

0,  mundo  vil,  malo,  e fallescedero  ! 

Como  me  enganaste  con  tu  promision  ; 
Prometisteme  vida,  de  ty  non  la  espero, 
Siempre  mentiste  en  toda  sason. 

Faga  quien  quisiere  la  vesytacion 
De  mi  arcedianasgo  por  que  trabaje  ! 

Ay  de  mi  cuytado  ! grand  cargo  tome  ; 

Agora  lo  siento,  que  fasta  aqui  non. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Arcediano,  amigo,  quitad  el  bonete  ! 

Yenit  a la  dan^a  suave  e onesto  ! 


No.  II.] 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


467 


Ca  quien  en  el  mundo  sus  amores  mete, 

El  mesmo  le  fare  venir  a todo  esto. 

Vuestra  dignidad,  segund  dice  el  testo, 

Es  cura  de  animas,  e daredes  cuenta ; 

Sy  mal  las  registes,  abredes  afruenta. 

Dan^ad,  Abogado  ; dexad  el  digesto. 

DICE  EL  ABOGADO. 

Que  fue  ora,  mesquino,  de  quanto  aprendy, 
De  mi  saber  todo  e mi  libelar  ! 

Quando  estar  pense,  entoiice  cay  ; 

Cegome  la  muerte  ; non  puedo  estudiar  ; 
iftes^elo  he  grande  de  yr  al  lugar. 

Do  non  me  valdra  libelo  nin  fuero, 

Peores  amigos  que  syn  lengua  muero  ; 
Abarcome  la  Muerte,  non  puedo  fablar. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Don  falso  Abogado,  prevalicador, 

Que  de  amas  las  partes  levastes  salario, 
Venga  se  vos  miente  como  syn  temor 
Volvistes  la  foja  por  otro  contrario ; 

El  chino  e el  Bartolo  e el  coletario 
Non  VOS  libraran  de  mi  poder  mero  ; 

Aqui  pagaredes,  como  buen  romero. 

E VOS,  Canonigo,  dexad  el  breviario. 

DICE  EL  CANONIGO. 

Vete  agora,  Muerte,  non  quiero  yr  contigo  ; 
Dexame  yr  al  coro  ganar  la  rracion  ; 

Non  quiero  tu  danca,  nin  ser  tu  amigo  ; 

En  folgura  vivo,  non  he  turbacion. 

Aun  este  otro  dia  obe  provysion 
Desta  calongya,  que  me  dio  el  perlado  ; 

Desto  que  tengo  soy  bien  pagado  ; 

Vaya  quien  quisiere  a tu  vocacion. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

V 

Canonigo,  amigo,  non  es  el  camino 
Ese  que  pensades.  Dad  aca  la  mano  ; 

El  sobrepeliz  delgado  de  lino 

* * # # * 
Darvos  he  un  consejo  que  vos  sera  sano ; 
Tornad  vos  a Dios,  e fased  penitencia, 

Ca  sobre  vos  cierto  es  dada  sentencia. 

Llegad  aca,  Fisico,  que  estades  ufano. 

DICE  EL  FISICO. 

Myntiome,  sin  duda,  el  fin  de  Abicenna, 
Que  me  prometio  muy  luengo  vevir, 
Rygiendome  me  bien  a yantar  e cena, 
Dexando  el  bever  despues  de  dorrmir. 

Con  esta  esperanca  pense  conquerir 
Dineros  e plata,  enfermos  curando  ; 


468 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Arp.  H. 


Mas  agora  vco  quo  me  va  llevando 
La  Muerte  consygo  ; conviene  solrir. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Pensaste  vos,  Fisico,  que,  por  Galeno 
O Don  Ypocras  con  sus  inforismos, 

Seriades  librado  do  comer  del  teno 
O.ue  otros  gastaron  de  mas  sologismosl 
Non  VOS  valdra  faser  gargarismos, 
Componer  xaropes,  nin  tener  dieta  ; 

Non  so  sy  lo  oystes,  yo  so  la  que  aprieta. 
Venid  vos,  Don  Cura,  dexad  los  bautismos. 

DICE  EL  CURA. 

Non  quiero  exeb^iones,  ni  conjugaciones ; 
Con  mis  perrochianos  quiero  yr  folgar  ; 
Elios  me  dan  polios  e lechones 
E muchas  obladas  con  el  pie  de  altar. 
Locura  seria  mis  diesmos  dexar, 

PI  ir  a tu  danca  de  que  non  se  parte ; 

Pero,  a la  fin,  non  se  por  qual  arte 
Desta  tu  danca  pudiese  escapar. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Ya  non  es  tiempo  de  yaser  al  sol 
Con  los  perrochianos  beviendo  del  vino  ; 

Yo  vos  mostrare  un  semifasol 

Que  agora  comprise  de  canto  muy  fino ; 

Tal  como  a vos  quiero  aver  por  vecino, 

Que  muchas  animas  tovistes  en  gremio  ; 
Segunt  los  registes,  abredes  el  premio. 
Dance  el  Labrador,  que  viene  del  molino. 

DICE  EL  LABRADOR. 

Como  conviene  dancar  al  villano 
Que  nunca  la  mano  saco  de  la  reja  1 
Busca,  si  te  place,  quien  danse  liviano. 

Deja,  Muerte,  con  otro  treveja, 

Ca  yo  como  toqino  e a veces  oveja, 

PI  es  mi  oficio  trabajo  e afan, 

Arando  la  tierra  para  sembrar  pan  ; 

For  ende  non  euro  de  oyr  tu  conseja. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Si  vuestro  trabajo  fue  syempre  sin  arte. 
Non  fasiendo  furto  en  la  tierra  agena. 

Pin  la  gloria  eternal  abredes  grand  parte, 

E por  el  contrario  sufriredes  pena. 

Pero  con  todo  eso  poned  la  melena ; 

Allegad  vos  a me,  yo  vos  buire, 

Lo  que  a.  otros  fise,  a vos  lo  fare. 

E vos,  Monje  negro,  tomad  buen  estre  . 


No,  II,] 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


469 


DICE  EL  MONJE. 

Loor  6 alaban^a  sea  para  siempre 
A1  alto  Sefior,  que  con  piedad  me  lieva 
A su  santo  reyno,  a donde  contemplo 
Por  siempre  jamas  la  su  magestad  ; 

]i)e  carcel  escura  vengo  a claridad , 

,Donde  abre  alegria  syii  otra  tristura ; 

Por  poco  trabajo  abre  grantl  I'olgura  ; 
Muerte,  non  me  espanto  de  tu  fealdad. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Sy  la  rcgla  santa  del  Monje  Bendicto 
Guardastes  del  todo  syn  otro  deseo, 

Sin  duda  temed  que  soes  escripto 
En  libro  de  vida,  segunt  que  yo  creo  ; 

Pero,  si  fesistes  lo  que  faser  veo 
A otros,  que  andan  fuera  de  la  regia, 

Vida  VOS  daran  que  sea  mas  negra. 

Damjad,  Usurero,  dexad  el  correo  ! 

DICE  EL  USURERO. 

Non  quiero  tu  dan^a  nin  tu  canto  negro, 
Mas  quiero  prestando  doblar  mi  moneda ; 
Con  pocos  dineros,  que  me  did  mi  suegro, 
Otras  obras  fago  que  non  fiso  Beda. 

Cada  ano  los  doblo,  demas  esta  queda 
La  prenda  en  mi  casa  que  esta  por  el  todo ; 
Allego  rriquezas  y hyariendo  de  cobdo  ; 
Por  ende  tu  danza  a mi  non  es  leda. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Traydor  Usurario,  de  mala  concencia. 
Agora  veredes  lo  que  faser  suelo  ; 

En  fuego  ynfernal  sin  mas  detenencia 
Pome  la  vuestra  alma  cubierta  de  duelo  ; 
Alla  estaredes,  do  esta  vuestro  abuelo, 

Que  quiso  usar  segund  vos  usastes ; 

Por  poca  ganancia  mal  syglo  ganastes. 

E vos,  Frayre  IMenor,  venit  a senuelo  ! 

DICE  EL  FRAYRE. 

Dan(]ar  non  conviene  a maestro  famoso, 
Segunt  que  yo  so  en  religion ; 

Maguer  mendigante  vivo  vicioso, 

E muchos  desean  oyr  mi  sermon, 
Desidesme  agora  que  vaya  a tal  son  ; 
Uan^ar  non  querria  sy  me  das  lugar  ; 

Ay  de  mi  cuydado  ! que  abre  a dexar 
Las  honrras  e grado,  que  quiera  6 que  non. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Maestro  famoso,  sotil,  e capaz, 

Que  en  todas  las  artes  fuistcs  sabidor. 


N N 


470 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Non  VOS  aciiytedes,  limpiad  vuestra  faz, 

Que  a pasar  abredes  pop  este  dolor  ; 

Yo  VOS  levare  ante  un  sabidor 

Que  sabe  las  artes  syn  ningunt  defecto, 

Sabredes  leer  por  otro  decrepto. 

Portero  de  Maca,  venid  al  tenor  ! 

DICE  EL  PORTERO. 

Ay,  del  rey  barones,  acorredme  agora  ! 
Llevame  syn  grado  esta  muerte  brava ; 

Non  me  guarde  della,  tornome  a dessora, 

A puerta  del  Rey  guardando  estava  ; 

Oy  en  este  dia  al  Conde  esperava, 

Que  me  diese  algo  por  que  le  dy  la  puerta ; 
Guarde  quien  quisyere  6 fynquese  abierta, 

Que  ya  la  mi  guarda  non  vale  una  fava. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Dexad  esas  vozes,  llegad  vos  corriendo, 

Que  non  es  ya  tiempo  de  estar  en  la  vela ; 

Las  vuestras  baratas  yo  bien  las  entiendo 
A vuestra  cobdicia  por  que  modo  suena  ; 
Cerrades  la  puerta  de  mas  quando  yela 
Al  ome  mesquino  que  vien  a librar ; 

Lo  que  del  levastes  abres  a pagar. 

E VOS,  Hermitafio,  salid  de  la  celda  ! 

DICE  EL  HERMITAi50. 

La  Muerte  reijelo,  maguer  que  so  viejo, 
Senor  Jesu  Christo,  a ty  me  encomiendo  ; 

De  los  que  te  sirven,  tu  eres  espejo ; 

Pues  yo  te  servi,  la  tu  gloria  atiendo  ; 

Sabes,  que  sufri  lazeria  viviendo 
En  este  desierto  en  contemplacion, 

De  noche  e de  dia  faziendo  oracion, 

E por  mas  abstinencia  las  yerbas  comiendo. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Fazes  grand  cordura  ; llamarte  ha  el  Seilor, 
Que  con  diligencia  pugnastes  servir  ; 

Sy  bien  le  servistes  abredes  honor 
En  su  santo  reyno,  do  abes  a venir ; 

Pero  con  todo  esto  abredes  a yr 
En  esta  mi  danca  con  vuestra  barva^a ; 

De  matar  a todos  aquesta  es  mi  ca^a. 

Dan9ad,  Contador,  despues  de  dormir  ! 

DICE  EL  CONTADOR. 

Quien  podria  pensar  que  tan  syn  disanto 
Abia  a dexar  mi  contaduria  1 
Llegue  a la  Muerte,  e vi  desbarato 
Que  faria  en  los  omes  con  grand  osadia ; 

Alii  perdere  toda  mi  valia, 

Averes,  e joyas,  y mi  grand  poder ; 


No.  II.] 


LA  DANZA  GENERAL. 


471 


Faza  libramientos  de  oy  mas  quien  quisiere, 
Ca  cercan  dolores  el  anima  mia. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Contador,  amigo,  ssy  bien  vos  catades, 
Como  por  favor  e averes  por  don  ; 

Librastes  las  cuentas,  razon  es  que  ayades 
Dolor  e quebranto  por  tal  ocasyon. 

Cuento  de  alguarismo  nin  su  division 
Non  vos  ternan  pro,  e yredes  comigo  ; 
Andad  aca  luego  asy  vos  lo  digo. 

E vos,  Diacono,  venid  a leccion  ! 

DICE  EL  DIACONO. 

Non  veo  que  tienes  gesto  de  lector 
Tu  que  me  convidas  que  vaya  a leer ; 

Non  vy  en  Salamanca  maestro  nin  doctor 
Que  tal  gesto  tenga  nin  tal  parescer. 

Bien  se  que  con  arte  me  quieres  fazer, 

Que  vaya  a tu  danca  para  me  matar ; 

Sy  esto  asy  es,  venga  administrar 
Otro  por  mi,  que  yo  vome  a caer. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Maravillome  mucho  de  vos,  Diacon, 

Pues  que  bien  sabedes,  que  es  mi  doctrina 
Matar  a todos  por  justa  rracon , 

E vos  esquivades  oyr  mi  bocina  ; 

Yo  vos  vestire  almatica  fina, 

Labrada  de  pino  en  que  miniestredes, 

Fasta  que  vos  llamen  en  ella  yredes. 

Venga  el  que  rrecabda,  e dance  ayna ! 

DICE  EL  RECABDADOR. 

Asaz  he  que  faga  en  recabdar 
Lo  que  por  el  rey  me  fue  encomendado  ; 

Por  ende  non  puedo  nin  devo  dancar 
En  esta  tu  danqa  que  non  he  acostumbrado. 
Quiero  yr  agora  apriessa  priado 
Por  unos  dineros  que  me  Ran  prometido  ; 

Ca  he  esperado  e el  plazo  es  venido. 

Mas  veo  el  camino  del  todo  cerrado. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Andad  aca  luego  syn  mas  tardar, 

Pagad  los  cohechos  que  avedes  levado, 

Pues  que  vuestra  vida  fue  en  trabajar 
Como  robariedes  al  ome  cuytado  ; 

Dar  vos  he  un  pago  en  que  esteys  asentado, 
E fagades  las  rentas  que  tenga  dos  pasos  ; 
Alii  dares  cuenta  de  vuestros  traspasos. 
Venid,  Subdiacono,  alegre  e pagado  ! 


472 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


DICE  EL  SUBDIACONO. 

Non  he  menester  de  yr  a trocar 
Como  fazen  esos  que  traes  a tu  mando  ; 

Antes  de  evang-elio  me  quiero  tornar 

Estas  quatro  temperas,  que  aun  seran  llegando. 

En  lugar  de  tanto,  veo  que  llorando 
Andan  todos  essos,  no  fallan  abrigo  ; 

Non  quiero  tu  danca,  asy  te  lo  digo, 

Mas  quiero  pasar  el  salterio  reszando. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Mucho  es  superfluo  el  vuestro  alegar ; 

Por  ende  dcxad  aquesos  sermones  ; 

Non  tenes  mafia  de  andar  a dan9ar, 

Nin  comer  obladas  cerca  los  tizones  ; 

Non  yredes  mas  en  las  proijysiones 
Do  davades  vozes  muy  altas  en  grito, 

Como  por  enero  fazia  el  cabrito. 

Venid,  Sacristan,  dexad  las  rra^ones. 

DICE  EL  SACRISTAN. 

Muerte,  yo  te  rruego,  que  ayas  piadad 
De  mi  que  so  mo^o  de  pocos  dias ; 

Non  conosci  a Dios  con  mi  mocedad, 

Nin  quise  tomar  nin  seguir  sus  vias. 

Fia  de  mi,  amiga,  como  de  otro  has, 

Porque  satisfaga  del  mal  que  he  fecho. , 

A ty  non  se  pierde  jamas  tu  derecho, 

Ca  yo  yre,  sy  tu  por  mi  envias. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Don  Sacristanejo,  de  mala  picana, 

Ya  non  tienes  tiempo  de  saltar  paredes, 

Nin  andar  de  noche  con  los  de  la  caiia, 

Faziendo  las  obras  que  vos  bien  sabedes. 

Andar  a rondar  vos  ya  non  podredes, 

Nin  presentar  joyas  a vuestra  seiiora  ; 

Sy  bien  vos  quiere,  quinte  vos  agora. 

Venit  vos,  Rrabi,  aca  meldaredes. 

DICE  EL  RRABI. 

Heloim  e Dios  de  Habrahan, 

Que  prometiste  la  redep^ion  ! 

Non  se  que  me  faga  con  tan  grant  afan ; 

Mandadme  que  dan^e,  non  entiendo  el  son. 

Non  ha  ome  en  el  mundo  de  quantos  y sson 
Que  pueda  fuyr  de  su  mandamiento. 

Veladme,  dayanes,  que  mi  entendimiento 
Se  pierde  del  todo  con  grand  afliccion. 

DICE  LA  MUERTE. 

Don  Rrabi,  Rrabi  barbudo,  que  siempre  estudiastes 
En  el  talmud  e en  sus  doctores, 


No.  II.] 


LA  DANZA  GEiNERAL. 


E de  la  verdad  jamas  non  curastes, 
For  lo  cual  abredes  penas  e dolores, 
Llegad  vos  aca  con  los  dancadores, 
E diredes  por  canto  vuestra  beraha, 
Dar  VOS  ban  possada  con  Rrabi  aca. 
Venit,  Alfaqui,  dexad  los  sabores. 


DICE  EL  ALFAQUI. 


Sy  Allaha  me  vala,  es  fuerte  cosa 
Esto  que  me  mandas  agora  facer  ; 
Yo  tengo  muger  discreta,  graciosa, 
De  que  he  garajado  e ausar  plazer  ; 
Todo  quanto  tengo  quiero  perder, 
Dexame  con  ella  solamente  estar  ; 
De  que  fuere  viejo  mandame  levar, 
E a ella  conmigo,  sy  a ty  pluguiere. 


DICE  LA  MUERTE. 


A'enit  vos,  amigo,  dexar  el  zala, 

Ca  el  gameno  pedricaredes 
A los  veinte  e siete  : vuestro  capella 
Nin  vuestra  cajnisa  non  la  vestiredes 
En  Meca  ni  en  layda,  y non  estaredes 
Comiendo  buiiuelos  en  alegrla ; 

Busque  otro  alfaqui  vuestra  moreria. 
Passad  vos,  Santero,  vere  quo  diredes. 


DICE  EL  SANTERO. 


Por  cierto  mas  quiero  mi  hermita  vivir 
Que  non  yr  alia  do  tu  me  dizes ; 

Tengo  buena  vida  aunque  ando  a pedir, 

E como  a las  veces  polios  e perdices  ; 

Se  tomar  al  tiempo  bien  las  codornices, 

E tengo  en  mi  huerto  asaz  de  repollos. 

ATte,  que  non  quiero  tu  gato  com  polios  ; 
Adios,  me  encomiendo  y a senor  San  Helices. 


DICE  LA  MUERTE. 


Non  vos  vale  nada  vuestro  recelar  ; 

Andad  aca  luego  vos,  Don  Taleguero, 

Que  non  quisistes  la  hermita  adobar ; 

Fezistes  alcuza  de  vuestro  garguero  ; 

Non  visitaredes  la  bota  de  cuero 
Con  que  a menudo  soliades  beber ; 

Curron  nin  talega  non  podres  traer, 

Nin  pedir  gallofas  como  de  primero. 

LO  QUE  DICE  LA  MUERTE  A.  LOS  QUE  NON  NOMBRO. 

A todos  los  que  aqui  no  he  nombrado, 

De  qualquier  ley  e estado  6 condicion, 

Les  mando  que  vengan  muy  toste  priado 
A entrar  en  mi  danca  sin  escusacion  ; 


60 


NN 


A’OL.  III. 


474 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Non  rescebire  jamas  exebcion, 

Nin  otro  libelo,  nin  declinatoria  ; 

Los  quo  bien  fizieron  abran  syempre  gloria ; 
Los  quo  al  contrario  abran  dapnacion. 

DICEN  LOS  QUE  HAN  DE  PASAR  POR  LA  MUERTE. 

Pues  que  asy  es  quo  a morir  avemos 
De  necesidad  syn  otro  remedio, 

Con  pura  conciencia  todos  trabajemos 
En  servir  a Dios  sin  otro  comedio  ; 

Ca  el  es  Principe,  fin,  e el  medio, 

Por  do,  sy  le  place,  abremos  folgura; 

Aunque  la  Muerte,  con  dan^a  muy  dura. 

Nos  meta  en  su  corro  en  qualquier  comedio. 


\ 


No.  III. 

EL  LIBRO  DEL  RABI  SANTOB. 

The  poetry  of  the  Rabbi  de  Santob,  whose  name  and  title 
are  spelt  in  different  ways,  is  here  printed  from  the  manir- 
script  in  the  National  Library  at  Madrid,  marked  B.  b.  82, 
folio,  beginning  at  f.  Ixi.  I have  spoken  of  it,  (Vol.  I.  pp.  86, 
87,)  and  would  repeat  the  wish  there  expressed,  that  the 
present  copy  should  be  collated  with  the  one  in  the  Library 
of  the  Escurial. 

Como  quiera  que  dize  Salomon,  e dize  verdat,  en  el  libro  de  los  proverbios, 
“ quien  acrecienta  ciencia,  acrescienta  dolor,”  pero  que  yo  entiendo  que  a 
esto  que  el  llama  dolor  que  es  trabajo  del  cora^on  e del  entendimiento.  E asi 
no  lo  devemos  tener  al  tal  dolor  por  malo,  ca  el  non  lo  dixo  mal  dolor,  nin  por 
que  ome  deue  causa  escusarse  de  la  ciencia  e de  la  buena  arte  en  la  ciencia 
es  causa  al  entendido,  poned  le  en  folgura  corporal  e espiritual,  e aun  digo 
que  Salomon  antes  dial  e despues  que  escrivio  e dixo  en  los  dicho  proverbios 
e el  que  acrecienta  ciencia  acrescienta  dolor  al  acrescento  ciencia  amos  del 

ade  oy  vista  en  la  biblia  que  le  e el  dicho  libro  de  proverbios  e el 

libro  de  los  cantares  o canticores  e el  libro  de  vanidades  o clesiasticas,  e fiso 
el  libro  de  sapiencia,  amad  justicia  los  que  judgades  la  tierra,  e sea  asy  que  se 
entiende  que  no  lo  dixo  por  mal  dolor,  easy  lo  el  syntiera  por  dolor  no  se 
trabajara  de  acrescentar  ciencia,  pero  este  dolor  es  asemejado  al  trabajo  de 
bien  faser,  que  trabaja  ome  en  yr  luengo  camino  por  alcancar  conplimiento 
de  su  deseo,  e es  aquel  trabajo  folgura,  gloria,  e no  dolor,  aunque  pasa  por  el 
por  lo  muebo  del  bien  fase  ninguno  aquelo  dolor,  e asi  que  dixo,  acrecienta 
dolor,  por  que  quien  mucho  lee  mucho  trabaja,  e mientra  mas  acrescienta  el 
estudio  mas  acrescienta  trabajo  para  el  fruto  que  el  entendides  ssaca  del  tal 
trabajo  para  el  fruto  o dolor  es  de  tamana  gloria  que  el  trabajo  e dolor  con 
que  se  alcanco  es  ninguno  e cosa  olvidada  e non  sentyda,  non  enpecible  mas 
antes  fue,  e es  causa  de  bien  e es  afigurado,  como  sy  disen  a omen  contar 
doblas  para  el  ciento  es  que  trabaja  en  el  contar,  pero  mas  pro  saca  myentra 
mas  contare  asi  que  non  lo  dixo  por  dolor  es  pecible  ni  malo,  ca  dolor  ay  que 
ome  desea  a las  veses  que  con  el  avrie  grant  folgura  e non  syn  el  asi  que  es 
muchas  veses  deseado  dolor  et  commo  la  tanger  manera  que  todavia  cobdicia 
aquel  dolor  mas  que  todas  las  folguras  e vicios  del  mundo  porque  es  causa 
de  todo  su  deseo  asi  que  es  dolor  nescesario  o provechoso,  e por  esto  non 
deve  Cesar  de  fablar  ciencia  el  que  sabe  por  cuyta  de  sofrir  trabajos  o dolor, 
mayor  mente  que  es  notorio,  que  vyene  por  devyna  influyda  de  Dios  en  el  omen 
que  la  asi  que  non  la  da  Dios  para  que  la  calle  nin  para  quel  influydo  solo  salvo 
para  faser  bien  commo  la  sacra  ley  que  dio  a Muyssen  non  sollamente  para  el 


476 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  11. 


mas  para  ssu  pueblo  de  generation  c aim  para  todos  los  nastidos  que  a su 
ley  sse  allegaron,  conio  dise  Ysayas  en  el  c'\ 

El  linaje  que  lo  servierc  sera  contado  a el  por  publico  suyo  asi  que  cl 
ssefior  da  sabiduria  a uno  para  enseiiarla  a muehos,  e puede  aqui  desir  que 
qvien  quisyere  pues  cl  seilor  Dios  commo  da  la  sabiduria  a uno  para  eiisefiarla 
a muehos.  tan  bien  la  podria  dar  a los  muehos  e en  verdat  para  que  o porque 
es  esto  diria  yo  a el  respondote  que  fan  bien  podria  dar  Dios  la  ley  syn  que  se 
ensenase  por  escritura  a cada  nastido  pero  no  se  le  entendia  ni  seria  sabido 
que  bynya  de  Dios,  nin  por  acarreamiento  del  Espiritu  Sancto  asy  que  non  seria 
Dios  tan  conoscido,  e por  esto  es  en  el  secreto  de  Dios  vien  lo  que  a nos  non 
se  entyende,  ea  el  Sefior  todas  las  cosas  que  el  fiso  e son  con  sabiduria  aca- 
bada  que  es  en  el  asi  que  devemos  creer  que  es  bien  aprender  que  quien  pre- 
tende  e entender  del  que  entyende  e punar  en  el  tal  trabajo  que  nate  dello 
gloria  e folgura  asi  que  non  es  dolor  doloroso,  mas  es  dolor  provechoso.  Dues 
asi  es,  plaziendo  a Dios,  declarare  algo  en  las  trobas  do  Rabisantob  el  Judio  de 
Carrion  cn  algunas  partes  que  parescen  escritas  aunque  no  son  escritas  salvo 
por  quanto  son  trobas  e todas  escritura  rymada  paresce  entrepatada  e non 
lo  es  que  por  guardar  los  consonantes  disce  algunas  veses  lo  que  lia  de  desir 
despues  disce  lo  antes.  E esto  quiero  yo  trabajar  en  declarar  con  el  ayuda  de 
Dios  para  algunos  que  pueden  ser  que  leeran  e non  entenderan  syn  que  otro 
gelas  declare  commo  algunas  veses  la  he  ya  visto  esto  por  cuanto  syn  dubda 
las  dichas  trobas  son  muy  notable  escritura,  que  todo  omen  la  deviera  de  curar, 
ca  esta  fue  la  entencion  del  sabio  Raby  que  las  fiso,  por  que  escritura  rimada  es 
mejor  decorada  que  non  la  que  va  por  testo  llano,  e dise  asy  el  prologo  de  sus 
rymas  es  veynte  e tres  coplas  fasta  de  quiero  desir  del  mundo. 


Sefior  Rey,  noble,  alto, 

Oy  cste  sermon, 

Que  vyene  desyr  Santob, 

Judio  de  Carrion, 

Comunalmente  trobado 
De  glosas  moralmente, 

De  la  filosofia  sacado 
Ssgunt  que  va  syguiente. 

Quando  cl  Rey  Don  Alfonso 
Fyno,  fynco  la  gente, 

Como  quando  el  pulso 
Fallesce  al  doliente. 

Que  luego  non  ayudaua, 

Que  tan  grant  mejoria 
A ellos  fyncaua, 

Nin  omen  lo  entendia. 

Quando  la  rosa  seca 
En  su  tiempo  sale, 

El  agua  della  fynca 
Rosada  que  mas  vale. 

Asi  VOS  fyncastes  del 
Para  mucho  turar, 

E faser  lo  que  el 
Cobdiciava  librar. 

Como  la  debda  mia 
Que  a VOS  muy  poco  monta 
Con  la  qual  yo  podria 
Bevyr  syn  toda  onta. 


Estando  con  cuyta 
De  miedns  de  pecados, 
Que  muehos  fis  syn  cuyta, 
Menudos  e granados. 

Teniame  por  muerto. 
Mas  vyno  me  el  talante 
Un  cornote  muy  cierto, 
Que  me  fiso  vien  andante. 

Omen  torpe,  syn  seso, 
Seria  a Dios  baldon 
La  tu  maldat  en  peso 
Poner  con  su  perdon. 

El  te  fiso  nascer, 

Byves  en  nierced  suya ; 
Como  podria  veneer 
A su  obra  la  tuya  1 

Pecar  es  la  tu  mana, 

E la  suya  perdonar, 

El  alongar  la  saiia, 
liOS  yerros  oluidar. 

Bien  commo  es  mas  alu 
El  cielo  que  la  tierra, 

El  su  perdon  es  tanto 
Mayor  que  la  tu  yerra. 

Segunt  el  poder  suyo 
Tanto  es  la  su  obra  suya 
Segunt  el  poder  tuyo 
Tal  es  la  obra  tuya. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RACBI  DE  SANTOB. 


4 


Obrar  de  omen  que  nada 
Es  todo  el  su  fecho, 

Es  su  vyda  penada, 

Es  a muy  poco  trecho. 

Como  seria  tan  grande 
Como  la  del  Criador, 

Que  todo  el  mundo  anda 
E fas  en  derredor 

Andar  aquella  rueda 
El  sol  e las  estrellas, 

E jamas  nunca  queda, 

E sabe  cuenta  dellas. 

Quanto  el  tu  estado 
Es  ante  la  tu  gloria, 

Monta  el  tu  pecado 
A su  mysiricordia. 

Seria  cosa  estraiia 
Muy  fuera  de  natura, 

La  tu  yerra  tamaua 
Ser  como  su  mesura. 

Et  desto  non  temas 
Que  ser  non  podria, 

En  que  non  tomes  jamas 
En  la  tu  rebeldia, 

Mas  en  te  arrepentyr 
E fazer  oracion, 

Et  merced  le  pedyr 
Con  magnifestacion 

De  todo  lo  pasado. 

E partyr  de  lo  mano, 

Con  tanto  perdonado 
Seras  bien  de  lyviano. 

Et  non  sabe  la  persona 
Torpe  que  non  se  baldona 
For  las  priesas  del  mundo 
Que  nos  da  a menudo. 

I non  sabe  que  la  manera 
Del  mundo  esta  era, 

Tener  syempre  viciosos 
A los  onbres  astrosos, 

Et  ser  [de]  guerreados 
Los  pmes  onrrados, 

Al^a  los  ojos  a cata 
E veras  la  mar  alta, 

Et  sobre  las  sus  cuestas 
Anda  cosas  muertas, 

E yazen  cafondadas 
En  el  piedras  presciadas. 


Et  el  peso  asi 
Avaga  otro  si. 

La  mas  llena  balanca 
E la  mas  vasya  alca. 

Et  en  el  pielo  estrellas 
E sabe  cuenta  dellas. 

Non  escuresijen  dellas  una, 

Sy  non  el  sol  e la  luna. 

Las  mys  canas  tefiilas, 

Non  por  las  auorrescer, 

Ni  por  desdesyrlas, 

Nin  mancebo  parescer, 

Mas  con  miedo  sobejo 
De  omes  que  bastarian 
En  mi  seso  de  viejo, 

E non  lo  fallarian. 

Pues  trabajo  me  mengua, 
Donde  puede  auer, 

Prodire  de  mi  lengua 
Algo  de  mi  saber. 

Quando  no  es  lo  que  quiero 
Quiero  yo  lo  que  es  ; 

Si  pcsar  he  primero, 

Plaser  avre  despues. 

Mas  pues  aquella  rueda 
Del  cielo  una  ora 
.Tamas  non  esta  queda, 

Peora  et  mejora, 

Ann  aqueste  laso 
Renovara  el  escripto, 

Este  pandero  manso 
Aun  el  su  rretynto  ; 

Sonara  vernaadia, 

Avra  su  libertad, 

Parescio  como  solia 
Valer  el  su  quintal. 

Yo  proue  lo  pesado, 
Prouare  lo  lyviano, 

Quicja  mudare  fado 
Quando  mudare  la  mano. 

Rescele  si  fablase 
Que  enojo  faria, 

Por  si  me  callase 
Por  torpe  fyncaria. 

Quel  que  no  se  muda. 

Non  falla  lo  que  plas  ; 

Disen  que  ave  muda 
Aguero  nunca  fas. 


478 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Porque  pisan  poquella, 
Saron  tierra  perlando  ; 

Omes  que  pisan  ella 
Para  siempre  callando. 

Entendi  que  en  callar 
Avri  grant  mejoria, 

Avorres9i  fablar 
E fueme  peoria. 

Que  non  so  para  rnenos 
Que  otros  de  mi  ley, 

Que  ovieron  buenos 
Honadios  del  Rey. 

Syn  mi  rrason  ser  buena 
Non  sea  despreciada 
Por  que  la  dis  presona 
Rafez  que  mucha  espada. 

De  fyno  azero  sano 
Sale  de  rrota  vayna  ; 

Salir  e del  gusano 
Se  fare  la  seda  fyna. 

E astroso  garrote 
Fare  muy  ciertos  trechos, 

E algunt  astroso  pellote 
Cubre  blancos  pechos. 

Et  muy  sotil  trotero 
Aduze  buenas  nuevas, 

E muy  vil  vezerro 
Presenta  ciertas  prueuas. 

Por  nascer  en  el  espino 
No  val  la  rosa  cierto 
Menos,  nin  el  buen  vyno 
Por  nascer  en  el  sarmyento. 

Non  val  el  a^or  menos 
Por  nascer  de  mal  nido, 

Ni  los  enxemplos  buenos 
Por  los  dezir  Judio. 

Non  me  desdeilen  por  corto, 
Que  mucho  Judio  largo 
Non  entraria  a coto 
A fazer  lo  que  yo  fago. 

Bien  se  que  nunca  tanto 
Quatro  tyros  de  lan(ja 
Alcanqaria  quanto 
La  saeta  alcanca  ; 

Et  rrazon  muy  granada 
Se  diz  en  pocos  versos, 

E cinta  muy  delgada 
Sufffe  costados  gruesos. 


Et  mucho  ome  entendido, 
Por  ser  vergon^oso, 

Es  por  torpe  tenido 
E llamado  astroso. 

Et  sy  viese  sazon 
Mejor  e mas  apuesta, 

Diria  su  razon 
Aquel  que  lo  denuesta. 

Quiero  dezir  del  mundo 
E do  las  sus  maneras, 

E commo  del  dubdo 
Palabras  muy  certeras. 

Que  non  se  tomar  tiento, 
Nin  fazer  pleytesia, 

De  acuerdos  mas  de  ^iento 
Me  torno  cada  dia. 

Lo  que  uno  demuestra 
Veo  a otro  loallo, 

Lo  que  este  apuesta 
Veo  a otro  afeallo. 

La  vara  que  menguada 
La  diz  el,  comprador, 

Esta  mesma  sobrada 
La  diz  el  vendedor. 

El  que  lancja  la  lan^a 
Semejale  vaguarosa, 

Pero  al  que  alcanna 
Semejale  presurosa. 

Dize,  sy  quier  no  diese 
Pan  nin  vyno  al  suelo 
En  tal  que  ome  viese 
Ya  la  color  del  ^ielo. 

Olvidado  amenos 
Su  color  con  nublados. 

Con  lodos  non  podemos 
Andar  por  los  mercados. 

Lo  mucho  non  es  nunca 
Vueno  nin  de  espe^ia  fyna. 
Mas  vale  contrilla  poca 
Que  mucha  melezyna. 

Non  puede  cosa  ninguna 
Syn  fyn  mucho  cres^er,. 
Desque  fynche  la  luna 
Torrne  a falles^er 

A todo  ome  castigo 
De  sy  mesmo  se  guarde 
Mas  que  de  enemigo 
Con  tanto  seguro  ande. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RADBI  DE  SANTOB. 


479 


Guardese  de  su  envidia, 
Guardese  de  su  sana, 
Guardese  de  su  cobdi^ia, 
Que  es  la  peor  maiia. 

Non  piiede  ome  tomar 
En  la  cobdi^ia  tyento  ; 

Es  profimdo  mar, 

Syn  orilla  e syn  puerto. 

De  alcancar  una  cosa 
Nasce  cobdi^ia  de  otra  ; 
Mayor  e mas  sabrosa 
Que  mengua  bien  de  sobra. 

Quien  buena  piel  tenia 
Que  el  amplia  para  el  frio, 
Tabardo  non  pidiria 
Jamas,  sy  non  por  vrio. 

Por  quel  su  veryno 
Buen  tabardo  tenia, 

Con  zelo  el  mesquino 
En  cuydado  venia. 

Fue  buscar  tabardo, 

E fallolo  a otir  acuesta 
Por  otro  mas  onrrado 
Para  de  fyesta  en  fiesta. 

Et  sy  este  primero 
Tabardo  non  fallara, 

Del  otro  di  santero 
Jamas  non  se  membrara. 

Quando  lo  poco  vyene 
Cobdiqia  de  mas  cresqe  ; 
Quanto  mas  ome  tyene 
Tanto  mas  le  falles^e. 

Et  quanto  mas  alcanca 
Mas  cobdiqia  dos  tanto, 
Alfyn  desque  calqa 
Calcas  tyene  por  quebranto. 

De  andar  de  pye  camino 
E va  buscar  rroqyn  ; 

De  calqar  calqas  vyno 
A cobdicia  syn  fyn. 

Para  el  rrocyn  quier  ome 
Quel  piense  e qeuada, 
Establo  e buen  pesebre 
E desto  todo  nada. 

No  te  menguava  nada, 
Las  calcas  non  tenia ; 

Los  capatos  solados 
Su  Jornada  conplia. 


Yo  fallo  en  el  mundo 
Dos  omes  e non  mas, 

E fallar  nunca  puedo 
El  tei^ero  jamas  ; 

Un  buscador  que  cata 
E non  alcanqa  nunca, 

E otro  que  nunca  se  farta 
Fallando  quanto  busca  ; 

Quien  falle  e se  farte 
Yo  non  puedo  fallarlo  ; 

Que  pobre  bien  andante 
E rrico  omen  llamarlo. 

Que  non  ya  omen  pobre 
Synon  el  cobdicioso, 

Nin  rrico  synon  ome 
Con  lo  que  tiene  gozoso. 

Que  en  lo  quel  cumple  quiere 
Poco  le  abondara, 

E quen  sobras  quesyere 
El  mundo  non  le  cabra. 

Quanto  cumple  a omen  de  su , 
De  su  algo  sy  syrve  ; 

De  lo  demas  es  syenpre 
Syervo  a quanto  vyve, 

Todo  el  dia  lazrado, 

Corrido  por  traello  ; 

A la  noche  cuytado 
Por  miedo  de  perdello. 

El  tanto  non  le  plaze 
Del  algo  que  averlo. 

Quanto  pesar  le  faze 
El  miedo  de  perderlo. 

Non  se  farta  non  le  carbiendo 
En  afan  nin  en  talega  ; 

Et  lazra  non  sabiendo 
Para  quien  lo  allega. 

Syenpre  las  almas  grandes, 
Queriendose  honrrar, 

Fazen  en  sus  demandas 
A los  cuerpos  lazrar. 

Por  conplir  sus  talantes 
Non  les  dexan  folgar  ; 

Fazen  los  viandantes 
De  logar  en  logar. 

La  alma  granada  vyene 
A perderse  con  el  ^elo, 

Quanto  que  demas  tyene 
Su  vesyno  un  pelo. 


480 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Arp.  H. 


Tyende  grant  miedo  fuevlc 
Que  le  aventajaria, 

E non  le  membraria  do  la  mucrtc 
Que  los  ygualaria. 

For  buscar  lo  demas 
Es  quanto  mal  auemos  ; 

For  lo  necessario  jamas 
Mucho  non  le  lazraremos. 

Sy  non  que  tc  mengue  quieres 
Dcxa  la  tu  cobdicia  ; 

Lo  que  auer  podieres 
Solo  eso  cobdicia 

Tanto  es  un  debdo  fuera 
De  la  rraya  asignada, 

Commo  si  luene  tierra  fuera 
Dcnde  una  jornada. 

Quanto  mas  que  auia 
Fesar  el  omen  loco, 

En  lo  queste  perdia 
For  mucho  que  por  poco. 

Quando  por  poco  estoruo 
Ferdio  lo  que  buscaua, 

Del  grant  pesar  que  ovo 
Nunca  se  conortava. 

Non  sabe  que  por  cobrirse 
Del  ojo  cunple  tanto 
Un  lienco,  como  si  fuese 
Muro  de  cal  i canto. 

Tanto  se  lo  que  yaze 
Detras  del  destajo, 

Quanto  se  lo  que  faze 
El  de  allende  tajo. 

Lo  que  suyo  non  era, 

Tanto,  con  dos  pasadas, 

Luene,  como  sy  fuera 
Dende  veynte  jornadas. 

Tan  luene  es  de  ayer 
Commo  el  aiio  pasado, 

Es  quien  ha  de  ser 
De  feridas  guardado. 

Tanto  val  un  escudo 
Entre  el  e la  saeta, 

Como  sy  todo  el  mundo 
Entre  el  e ella  meta. 

Ca  pues  non  lo  firio, 

Tal  es  un  dedo  cerca 
Del,  commo  la  que  dio 
Allende  la  cerca. 


El  dia  de  ayer  tanto 
Alcan(jar  podemos, 

Nin  mas  nin  menos  quanto 
Oy  null  anos  faremos. 

Tu  por  mucho  andar 
Alyfiar  lo  pasado, 

Nin  pierde  por  quedar 
Lo  que  non  es  llegado. 

Tan  fea  nin  fermosa, 

En  el  mundo  ya  ves, 

Se  puede  alcan^ar  cosa 
Sinon  por  su  reves. 

Quien  ante  non  esparzc 
Trigo,  non  allega, 

Sy  con  tierra  non  ayaze 
A espiga  nunca  llega. 

Non  se  puede  coger  rosa 
Syn  pisar  las  espynas. 

La  miel  es  dulce  cosa 
Mas  tyen  agras  vezyna. 

La  pas  non  se  alcanca 
Synon  con  guerrear ; 

Non  se  gana  folganca 
Synon  con  el  lazrar. 

For  la  grant  mansedat 
A ome  fallaran  ; 

E por  grant  crueldat 
Todos  lo  aborres^eran. 

For  la  grant  escaseza 
Tener  lo  ha  por  poco  ; 

For  mucha  franqueza 
Rrazonar  lo  ha  por  loco. 

Sy  tacha  non  oviese 
En  el  mundo  pobreza, 

Non  aunque  valiese 
Tanto  como  la  flaqueza. 

Mas  ha  en  ella  una 
Tacha  que  le  enpesce 
Mucho,  que  commo  la  luna 
Mengua  e despues  cresce. 

La  franqueza  sosobra 
Es  de  toda  costunbre, 

Que  por  usar  la  cobra 
Sabey  las  cosas  onbre. 

Lo  que  omen  mas  usa, 
Eso  mejor  aprenda, 

Sy  non  es  esta  cosa 
Que  por  usar  la  mas  pierde. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABP.I  DE  SANTOB. 


481 


Usando  la  franqueza, 

No  se  puede  escusar 
De  venir  a pobreza, 

Que  en  mucho  la  usar. 

Qae  todavia  dando 
Non  fyncaria  que  dar, 

Asi  que  franqueando 
Menguara  al  franquear. 

Commo  la  candela  mesma, 
Tal  cosa  es  al  ome 
Franco,  quo  ella  se  quema 
For  dar  a otro  lunbre. 

Al  rev  solo  conviene. 

De  usar  la  franqueza, 

E siguranca  tyene 
De  non  venyr  a pobreza. 

A otro  non  es  bien 
Sy  non  lo  comunal ; 

Dar  e tener  convien ; 

E lo  demas  es  mal. 

Sy  omen  dulce  fuere 
Commo  agua  lo  vencran, 

E sy  agro  sopiere 
Todos  lo  escopiran. 

Sy  quier  por  se  guardar 
De  los  astreros  omes 
A menudo  mudar 
Deve  las  costunbres. 

Que  tal  es  ciertamente 
El  come  commo  el  viso, 
Rrecclando  la  gente 
Ante  que  lo  ban  pasado. 

Uno  dando  vozes 
Donde  entrades, 

Fondo  es  cient  bracas 
Que  VOS  aventurades; 

Desque  a la  orilla  pasa 
Diz  que  dubdades ; 

No  dan  a la  rodilla, 

Pasad  e non  temades. 

Et  bien  tal  es  el  ome, 
Desque  es  barruntado 
En  alguna  costunbre, 

Por  ella  es  entrado. 

Por  esto  los  omes, 

Por  se  guardar  de  dampno, 
Deven  mudar  costunbres 
Como  quien  muda  damno. 

61 


Oy  bravo,  eras  manso  ; 

Oy  sinple,  eras  lozano  ; 

Oy  largo,  eras  cscaso  ; 

Oy  en  cerro,  eras  en  llano. 

Una  vez  umildanca, 

E otra  vez  baldon  ; 

E un  tienpo  vengan^a, 

E en  otro  tienpo  perdon. 

Bien  esta  el  perdon 
Al  que  se  puede  vengar, 

E soffrir  el  baldon 
Quando  se  puede  negar. 

Con  todos  non  convienen 
Usar  por  un  ygual. 

Mas  a los  unos  con  bien, 

A los  otros  con  mal. 

Pagado  e sanudo 
Vez  dexa  e vez  ticn, 

Que  non  ha  mal  en  el  mundo 
En  que  non  ay  bien. 

Tomar  del  mal  lo  menos 
E lo  demas  del  bien  ; 

A malos  e a buenos, 

A todos  estos  convien. 

Ilonrrar  por  su  bondat, 

Al  bueno  es  prouado  ; 

Al  malo  de  maldat 
Suya  por  ser  nunca  dado. 

Lo  peor  del  buen  ome 
Que  non  vos  faga  bien, 

Que  dano  de  costunbre 
Del  bueno  nunca  vyen. 

Et  lo  mejor  del  malo 
Que  mas  del  non  ayades, 

Ca  nunca  bien  fallarlo 
En  el  non  entendades. 

Pues  ser  ome  manso 
Con  todos  non  convien ; 

Mas  oy  priesa,  eras  paso  ; 
Vezes  mal,  vezes  bien. 

El  que  quisiere  folgar 
Ila  de  lazrir  primero, 

Sy  quiere  a paz  llegar 
Sea  antes  guerrero. 

Al  que  torrna  al  robo 
Fuelga  maguer  le  agrado, 
Plazer  al  ojo  del  lobo 
Con  el  polvo  del  ganado. 


VOL.  III. 


00 


482 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Sienbra  cordura  tanto 
Que  non  nasca  paresa, 

E verguenca,  en  quanto 
Non  la  llamen  torpeza. 

Fizo  para  lacerio 
Dios  al  ome  nascer, 

Por  yr  de  feria  en  feria 
A buscar  do  guarescer. 

Por  rruas  e por  feria 
A buscar  su  ventura, 

Ca  es  muy  grant  soberuia 
Quere  pro  con  folgura. 

Non  ha  tal  folgura 
Commo  lazeria  conpro, 

E quien  por  su  cordura 
Su  entencion  cunplio. 

Quien  por  su  seso  cierto 
Quiere  acabar  su  fecho, 

U na  vez  entre  ciento 
No  sacaria  provecho. 

Ca  en  las  aventuras 
Yaze  la  pro  colgada, 

E es  con  las  locuras 
La  ganancia  conprada. 

Quien  las  cosas  dubdadere, 
Todas  non  se  meseran  ; 

De  lo  que  cobdiciare 
Poco  acavara. 

Por  la  mucha  cordura 
Es  la  pro  estoruada, 

Pues  en  la  aventura 
Esla  la  pro  colgada. 

Pues  por  rregla  derecha, 
Derecha  el  mundo  non  se  guia ; 
El  mucho  dubdar  echan 
A ome  en  astrosia. 

Mai  seso  manifiesto 
Non  digo  yo  usar, 

Quel  peligro  presto 
Deuelo  escusar. 

Mas  ygual  uno  de  otro 
El  men  guar  e el  sobrar, 

A lazrar  o encuentro 
Deuese  aventurar. 

Quien  vestyr  non  quiere 
Sy  non  piel  syn  yjada, 

De  frio  que  fizyere 
A-sTa  rra^on  doblada. 


Quien  de  la  pro  quiere  mucha 
A de  perder  e vrio  ; 

Quien  quiere  tomar  trucha 
Aventurese  al  rrio. 

Quien  los  vientos  guardare 
Todos  non  se  abraran, 

E quien  las  trunes  guardare 
Jamas  non  segara. 

Non  syn  noche  dia, 

Nin  segar  syn  senbrar, 

Nl  ha  fumo  syn  fuego, 

Ni  reyr  syn  llorar. 

No  ay  syn  corro  luego, 

Ni  syn  tarde  ayna, 

Ni  ha  fumo  syn  fuego, 

Ni  syn  comas  faryna. 

Ni  ganar  syn  perder, 

Ni  syn  luxar  altera, 

Saluo  en  Dios  poder 
Quel  y a syn  flaqueza. 

Ni  ha  syn  tacha  cosa, 

Ni  cosa  syn  so^obra, 

Ni  syn  fea  fermosa, 

Ni  sol  no  ha  syn  sonbra. 

La  vondat  de  la  cosa 
Saben  por  su  rreues  ; 

Por  agra  la  sabrosa. 

La  faz  por  el  reues. 

Syn  noche  no  ouiesemos, 
Ninguna  mejoria 
Conoscer  lo  sabriamos 
A la  lunbre  del  dia. 

No  ha  piel  syn  yjadas, 

Ni  luego  syn  despues, 

Ni  vietre  syn  espaldas, 

Ni  cabetja  syn  pies. 

Demas  q son  muy  pocos 
Los  q saben  el  seso, 

Ta  poco  como  de  los  locos 
Los  cuerdos  por  un  peso. 

Uno  no  sabe  el  quanto 
Buscar  de  lo  q deue, 

E el  otro  dos  tanto 
Del  derecho  se  atreue. 

El  uno  por  allede 
Buscar  de  su  derecho, 

E otro  por  aquende 
No  ovieron  provecho. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


48:3 


Et  los  q trabajaron 
De  los  en  paz  meter, 

For  muy  torpes  fyncaron 
Solo  en  lo  cometer. 

De  sy  dan  cueta  cyerta, 
Qen  orgullo  mantye, 

Que  poco  en  su  tyesta 
De  meollo  no  tye. 

Que  sy  no  fuere  loco 
No  usaria  asy, 

Si  conosciese  un  poco 
A1  mudo  e a sy. 

Sy  esta  paz  fysiera 
Ligero  fuera  luego 
De  creer  que  boluiera 
A1  agua  con  el  fuego. 

Usa  el  ome  noble 
A los  altos  alqarse, 

Synple  e couenible 
A los  baxos  mostrarse. 

Muestra  la  su  grandeza 
A los  desconoscidos, 

E muestra  grant  synpleza 
A los  baxos  caydos. 

Es  en  la  su  pobreza 
Alegre  e pagado, 

E en  la  su  riqueza 
Muy  s)rnple  mesurado. 

Su  pobreza  encubre, 

Dase  por  vie  andante  ; 

E la  su  pries  a sufre 
Mostrado  bue  talMe. 

Reues  usa  el  vyllano 
Abaxadose  a los  mayores  ; 
Alto  e loqano 
Se  muestra  a los  menores. 

Mas  de  quantas  es  dos  tanta 
Muestra  su  mal  Manga, 

E el  mundo  espMa 
En  la  su  buena  andaga. 

En  la  su  mala  andanga 
Et  mas  baxos  q tierra, 

E en  su  buena  andanga 
A1  cielo  quere  dar  guerra. 

A1  que  oyr  q syere 
Las  trueuas  del  villano, 

Por  que  quado  lo  vyere 
Lo  conosca  de  piano. 


No  far  nada  por  rruego, 

E la  pena  cosyente  ; 

Que  brantadlo  e luego 
Vos  sera  obendiete. 

Corno  el  arco  lo  cuento 
Yo  en  todo  su  fecho, 

Que  fasta  q el  fare  tuerto 
Nunca  fare  derecbo. 

Peor  es  leuantarse 
Un  malo  en  la  gete, 

Mucho  mas  q perderse 
Diez  buenos  ciertamente. 

Ca  perderse  los  buenos, 
Cierto  el  bien  fallesge  ; 

Pero  el  dano  menos 
Es  el  ql  mal  cresge. 

Quando  el  alto  cae 
El  baxo  se  leuata, 

Uida  al  fumo  trae 
El  fuego  q amata. 

El  caer  del  rrogio 
Faz  leuantar  yeruas, 

Onrraste  con  el  ofecio 
Del  senor  las  syeruas. 

Ome  que  la  paz  qeres, 

E no  semer  merino, 

Qual  para  ty  quisyeres 
Quieras  para  tu  vezyno. 

Fijo  de  ome  q te  querellas, 
Quando  lo  q te  aplaze 
No  se  cunple  e rrebellas 
En  Dios  porque  no  faze. 

Todo  lo  q tu  queres 
E andas  muy  yrado. 

No  te  miebras  q eres 
De  vil  cosa  criado  ! 

De  una  gota  suzya 
Podrida  e danada, 

E tyenes  te  por  luzya 
Estrella,  muy  presciada. 

Pues  dos  vezes  paresciste, 
Camino  muy  abiltado, 

Locura  es  preciarte, 

Daste  por  meguado. 

E mas  q un  moxquito 
El  tu  cuerpo  no  ual ; 

Desque  aquel  espryto 
Q el  mesee  del  cal. 


484 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  II. 


No  se  te  mietra  tu  cima 
E andas  de  galope, 

Pisando  sobre  la  syma 
Do  las  muestra  do  lope. 

Que  tu  senor  seria 
Mill  vezes,  et  gusanos 
Come  de  noche  e de  dia 
Su  rrost-ro  e sus  manos. 

Mucho  te  maravillas, 
Tyenes  te  por  meguado, 

Por  q todas  las  villas 
No  mandas  del  rregnado. 

Eres  rrico,  no  te  fartas, 

E tyenes  te  por  pobre, 

Co  codicia  q as,  no  catas 
Si  ganas  para  otre. 

E de  tu  algo  pocas, 

Para  envolver  tus  huesos 
Abras  varas  pocas 
De  algunos  lienqos  gruessos 

Lo  al  heredara 
Alguno  q no  te  ama, 

Para  ty  no  fyncara 
Sola  la  mala  fama, 

Del  mal  q en  tus  dias 
E la  mala  verdat 
En  las  plaqas  fazyas 
E en  tu  poridat, 

Quando  las  tus  cobdicias 
Ganar  para  ser  mitroso, 

Por  muy  sabio  te  presr.ias 
E antes  por  astroso. 

Et  los  enxemplos  buenos 
No  murieron  jamas, 

E quanto  es  lo  de  menos 
Tan  to  es  lo  demas. 

El  seso,  certero 
Al  q da  Dios  ventura 
Acierta  de  ligero 
E non  por  su  cordura. 

Fazere  lo  que  plaze 
A Dios  en  toda  pllto, 

Ome  nada  no  faze 
Por  su  entendymiento. 

Sy  fas  por  ventura 
Lo  q a el  plazya, 

Tyefl  que  por  su  cordura 
E su  sabiduria. 


E faze  del  escarnio 
Dios,  por  q quiere  creer 
Q puede  alongar  dano 
E provecho  traer. 

Por  no  errar 
Este  seso  (jierto, 

Trabaja  por  lazrar, 

Sy  quier  ladra  de  riebto. 

Que  las  gentes  no  digan 
Del  que  es  perezoso, 

Ni  del  escarnio  fagan, 

NI  lo  tengan  por  astroso. 

Trabaje,  asy  como 
Sy  en  poder 
Del  ome  fuere  mismo 
El  ganar  e el  perder. 

Et  por  conortarse, 

Sy  lazrare  vano, 

Deue  bien  acordarse 
Q no  es  en  su  mano. 

. Lazre  por  guaresqer 
Ome  e la  pro  cuelgue. 

En  Dios  que  lo  fyzo  nascer 
Fyzo  por  q no  fuelgue. 

Darle  ha  su  gualardon 
Bueno  e syn  destajo. 

No  qrra  que  syn  don 
Sea  el  su  trabajo. 

No  puede  cosa  nascida 
Syn  afan  guarescer, 

E no  avra  guarida 
Menos  por  hollesqer. 

No  quedan  las  estrellas 
Punto  en  un  lugar, 

Seria  mal  lazrar  ellas 
E los  omes  folgar. 

No  se  mcsqen  las  estrellas 
Por  fazer  a si  vicio, 

Es  el  merqed  dellas 
Fazer  a Dios  seruiqio. 

Et  el  merged  del  ome 
Es  para  mejoria 
A si  e non  a otre 
Lo  mandaros  lazrar. 

Diole  Dios  entedymiento 
Por  q busque  guarida, 

Por  q fallescimiento 
No  ay  a en  su  wda 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


' 485 


Sy  cobro  no  fallo 
Por  el  bollecer, 

No  dezia  que  valio 
Menos  por  sollescer. 

Por  su  trabajo  quite 
De  culpa  fyncaria, 

E qcaria  evito 
Alguno  faltaria. 

Es  por  andar  la  rrueda 
Del  molyno  presdada, 

E por  estar  queda 
La  tierra  es  follada. 

Establo  es  de  huerta 
En  q fruto  no  nasce, 

No  vale  mas  q muerta 
El  ome  que  no  se  mes9e. 

No  cumple  q non  gana, 
Mas  lo  ganado  pierde, 
Fazyendo  vyda  penada 
El  su  cabdal  espiende. 

No  ha  mayor  afan 
Q la  mucha  folgura, 

Que  pone  a ome  en  grant 
Valdon  e desmesura. 

Faze  el  cuerpo  folgado 
El  coracon  lazrar 
Con  mucho  mal  cuydado, 

Q lo  trae  a errar. 

Demas  el  q qsiere 
Estar  syempre  folgado, 

De  lo  que  mas  ovyere 
Menester  sera  meguado. 

El  qle  desearia, 

Quando  le  no  toviese  g,  ojo, 
Veyedo  lo  cada  dia 
Toma  con  el  enojo. 

Sacan  por  pedyr  lluuia 
Las  rrequilias  e cruzes, 
Quando  el  tpo  no  uvia, 

Dan  por  ella  vozes. 

Et  sy  viene  a menudo, 
Enojase  con  ella, 

E maldizen  al  mudo 
E la  pro  q vyen  della. 

Farian  dos  amigos 
Cinta  de  un  anillo, 

En  q dos  enemigos 
No  meteria  un  dedillo. 


Aun  lo  q Lope  gana, 
Domigo  enpobresce. 

Con  lo  q Sancho  sana, 

Pedro  adole^e. 

Qudo  vyento  se  leuanta, 
Ya  apelo,  ya  auriego. 

La  candela  amata, 

Enciende  el  grat  fuego. 

Do  luego  por  my  sentecia 
Que  es  bie  del  cres^er, 

E tomar  grat  acucia 
Por  yr  bollescer. 

Que  por  la  su  flaquesca 
La  candela  murid, 

E por  su  fortaleza 
El  grat  fiiego  byuio. 

Mas  apelo  a poco 
Rato  deste  juysyo, 

Q veo  escapar  el  flaco 
E pures^er  el  rrezyo. 

Q ese  mesmo  vieto 
Q a esos  dos  fazia, 

Fizo  cocobra  desto 
En  este  mesmo  dia. 

El  mesmo  menuzo 
El  arbol  muy  granado, 

E non  se  el  peruze 
Del  la  yerua  del  plado. 

Q en  sus  casas  se  qma. 
Grant  pesar  ha  del  viento, 
Qndo  sus  eras  auienta 
Con  el  ha  grat  pagamiento. 

Por  ende  no  se  jamas 
Tener  me  a una  estaca, 

NT  se  qual  me  val  mas 
Sy  preta  nl  sy  blanca. 

Qndo  caydo,  ql  derecho 
En  toda  cosa  presta, 

Fallo  a poco  trecho 
Q no  es  cosa  cierta. 

Sy  uno  pro  ha 
A otro  caro  cuesta. 

Si  el  pero  lo  loa 
Al  arco  lo  denue.sta ; 

Ca  el  derecho  del  arco 
Es  set  tuerto  fecho, 

E su  plazer  del  maestro 
Auer  pesar  derecho. 


00 


486 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Por  ende  no  puedo  cosa 
Loar  nl  denostalla, 

NT  desyr  la  fermosa 
Sol,  ni  feo  llamalla. 

Segut  es  el  lugar 
E la  cosa  qual  es, 

Sy  faz  priesa  o vagor 
E faz  llama  en  vez. 

Yo  nunca  he  querella 
Del  mudo,  de  q muclios 
La  hail,  q por  muchos 
Se  tiene  por  mal  trechos. 

Que  faz  bien  a menudo 
A1  torpe  e al  sabio. 

Mas  el  entendido 
Esto  ha  por  agrauio. 

Et  visto  como  ome 
Saluese  grande  o chico, 
Faz  al  acu^ioso  pobre 
E al  q se  duerme  chico. 

E aquesto  Dios  usa, 

Por  q uno  de  cieto 
No  cuyda,  q faz  cosa 
Por  su  entendimiento. 

Unos  vi  por  locura 
Al  cancar  grM  prouecho, 

E otros  que  por  cordura 
Pierde  todo  su  fecho. 

No  es  buena  locura. 

La  q a su  dueno  baldona, 
Nin  es  mala  locura 
La  q lo  apresona. 

Yo  vi  muchos  tornar 
Sanos  de  la  fazyenda, 

E otros  ocasionar 
Dentro  en  la  su  tyenda. 

Et  muere  el  doctor 
Que  la  fisique  reza, 

E por  guaresce[r]  el  pastor 
Con  la  su  grat  torpeza. 

No  cumple  grat  saber 
A los  q a Dios  no  temen, 
Nin  acunple  el  auer 
De  que  pobres  no  comen. 

Quado  yo  meto  mietes, 
Mucho  alegre  seria 
Con  lo  q otros  tristes 
Yeo  de  cada  dia. 


Pues  si  certero  bien 
Es  aql  q cobdi^io, 

Por  ql  q lo  tien 
No  toma  coni  vi^io 

Mas  esta  es  senal 
Q no  ha  bie  terijero 
En  el  mudo  e n5  ha  mal 
Q sea  verdadero. 

Bien  cierto  el  seruicio 
De  Dios  es  ciertamente. 
Mas  por  quitar  el  vi^io 
Oluidanlo  la  gente. 

Et  otro  bien  a par  deste 
El  seruicio  del  rey, 

Q mantyene  la  gente 
A derecho  e ley. 

Suma  de  la  razo 
Es  grande  torpedat, 

Leuar  toda  sazon 
Por  una  egualdat. 

Mas  tornasse  a menudo, 
Como  el  mudo  se  torna, 

A las  vezes  estudo, 

A las  vezes  esbona. 

Toda  buena  costunbre 
Ha  cierta  medida, 

E,  si  la  pasa  onbre, 

Su  bondat  es  perdida. 

De  las  cobdi^ias  syepre 
Los  sabores  dexando, 

E de  toda  costumbre 
Lo  de  medio  tomando. 

De  las  muchas  querellas 
Q en  coracon  tengo, 

Una  la  mayor  dellas 
Es  la  contar  uengo. 

Dar  la  ventura  pro 
Al  q faria  malicia, 

E se  echaria  pro 
E otros  cobdi9ia. 

De  poco  algo  ganar 
Faria  grat  astrosia, 

E de  qrer  perdonar 
Esto  no  lo  podria. 

Q la  ventura  tyene 
Por  guisado  de  le  dar, 
Mucho  mas  ql  vyene 
Por  boca  de  mandar. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


487 


Et  faze  le  bien  andante 
De  la  honrra  e valia, 

Lo  qual  por  talate 
Buscar  no  le  pesaria. 

Ventura  qere  usar 
Subir  de  tal  subyda, 

Q1  no  lo  treueria  buscar 
Cobdi^iar  en  su  vyda. 

El  syenpre  trabajado 
E meter  se  a quato 
Baldon  tyene  el  hdrrado, 
Por  honrrar  e por  qbrato. 

Tenerse  ya  por  vano 
Syn  sol  cuydase  en  ella 
E vienele  a la  mano 
Syn  trabajar  por  ella. 

A1  sabio  preg-utaua 
Su  de^iplo  un  dia, 

Porque  trauajava 
De  alguna  merchandia ; 

Et  yr  bolles9er 
De  lugar  en  lugar 
Para  enrriqier 
E algo  ganar. 

Et  rrespondiole  el  sabio 
Que,  por  algo  cobrar, 

Non  tomaria  agrauio 
De  un  punto  lazrar. 

Diz  por  que  buscare 
Cosa  de  que  jamas 
Nunca  me  fartare, 
Fallandolo  e mas. 

Acucjia  nin  cordura 
Non  ganan  aver ; 

Ganase  por  ventura 
Non  por  sy,  nin  por  saber. 

Pierde  por  flaqueza 
Fazer  e mucho  bien, 
Guardanlo  escazesa, 

Vileza  non  mantyen. 

Et,  por  esta  rrazon, 
Faria  locura  granada 
El  sabio  que  sazon 
Pediese  en  tal  demanda. 

Con  todo  eso  convyen 
A1  que  algo  ouiere, 

Fazer  del  mucho  vien 
Quanto  el  mas  pudiere. 


Non  lo  pierde  franqueza 
Quando  es  devenida, 

Nin  lo  guarda  escaseza 
Quando  es  de  yda. 

Non  ha  tan  buen  thesoro 
Como  el  bien  fazer, 

Nin  aver  tan  seguro, 

Nin  con  tanto  plazer. 

Como  el  que  tomara 
Aquel  que  lo  fizyere, 

En  la  vida  lo  honrrara 
E despues  que  muriere. 

El  que  bien  fecho  non  teme, 
Que  lo  furtaran  ladrones, 

Nin  que  fuego  lo  queme, 

Nin  otras  ocasiones ; 

Nin  ha  por  guardarlo 
Conde  fijo  menester, 

Nin  en  area  cerrarlo, 

Nin  so  llaue  meter. 

Fynarle  ha  buena  fama, 
Quando  fueren  perdidos, 

Los  algos  e la  cama 
E los  buenos  vestidos. 

Por  el  seria  onrrado 
El  linaje  que  fyncare, 

Quando  fuere  acal)ado 
Lo  que  del  heredare. 

Jamas  el  su  buen  onbre 
Non  se  oluidara, 

Que  el  tenga  de  todo  onbre 
Syempre  lo  nombrara. 

Por  ende  bel  bien  fazer 
Tu  poder  mostraras, 

En  al  do  tu  plazer 
Lo  demas  dexaras. 

De  toda  cobdicia 
Dexa  la  mayor  parte, 

E de  fazer  mali^ia 
Los  omes  han  talante. 

Quien  de  mala  ganancia 
Quiere  sus  talegas  llenas, 

De  buena  seguranca 
Vazyara  sus  venas. 

Non  ha  tan  dulce  cosa 
Como  la  seguranca, 

Nin  ha  miel  mas  sabrosa 
Que  por  omildanca. 


488 


[App.  H. 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


Nin  ha  cosa  tan  quista 
Como  la  humildanqa, 

Nin  tan  sabrosa  vista 
Como  la  buena  andanca. 

Nin  ba  tal  locura 
Como. la  obqdencia, 

Nin  tal  baragania 
Como  la  buena  sufren^ia. 

Non  puede  aver  tal  mafia 
Omen  como  en  sofrir, 

Nin  faga  con  la  sana 
Que  le  faga  rrepentyr. 

El  que  por  que  sufrio 
Se  touo  por  abiltado, 

A la  syma  salio 
Por  mas  aventurado. 

Non  ha  tan  atreguada 
Cosa  como  la  pobreza, 

Nin  cosa  guerreada 
Tanto  como  la  riqueza. 

Digo  que  omen  pobrc 
Es  pryncipe  desonrrado, 
Asy  el  rico  omen 
Es  lazrido,  onrrado. 

Quien  se  enlocanescio 
Con  honrra  que  le  crescia, 
A entender  bien  dio, 

Que  no  lo  meres^ia. 

Tyene  la  locania 
El  seso  tan  desfecho, 

Que  entrar  non  podrya 
Con  ella  so  un  lecho. 

Nunca  omen  nascid 
Que  quanto  le  pluguiese, 
Segunt  lo  cobdicio, 

Tal  se  le  cumpliese. 

Quien  quiere  fazer  pesar, 
Convienle  apercebyr ; 

Que  non  se  puede  escusar 
D^a  tal  rrescebyr. 

Si  quieres  fazer  mal, 
Pues  farlo  a tal  pleito, 

De  rrescebyr  a tal 
Qual  tu  fysyeres  9ierto. 

Non  puede  estar  paz 
Sy  una  mala  obra, 

Fyzyere  a topar 
En  rrescebyr  tu  otra. 


Quien  sabe  que  non  nasciste 
Por  vcnir  apartado, 

A1  mundo  non  veniste 
Por  ser  auentajado. 

En  el  rrey  mete  mientes, 
Toma  enxemplo  del, 

Mas  lazro  por  las  gentes 
Que  las  gentes  por  el. 

Por  sus  mafias  el  onbre 
Sc  pyerde  o se  gana, 

E por  su  costunbre 
Adoleqe  o sana. 

Cosa  que  tanto  le  cunplc 
Para  amigos  ganar, 

Non  ha  como  ser  synple ; 
Viensse  razon. 

Syn  que  este  pressente, 
Conosceras  de  ligero 
A1  omen,  en  su  absente, 

En  el  su  mcnsajero. 

Por  su  carta  sera 
Conoscido  en  cicrto, 

Por  ella  parescera 
El  su  entedymiento. 

En  el  mundo  tal  cabdal 
Non  ba  como  el  saber, 

Nin  heredat,  nin  al, 

Nin  alguno  otro  aver. 

El  saber  es  la  glorya 
De  Dios  e la  su  gracia, 

Non  ha  tan  noble  joya, 

Nin  tan  buena  ganancia ; 

Nin  mejor  compasion 
Quel  libro,  nin  tal, 

E tomar  entenqion 
Con  el  mas  que  paz  val. 

Los  sabios  que  querrian 
Uer  lo  fallara 
Con  el,  e toda  vya 
Con  ellos  fablara. 

Los  sabios  rauy  granados 
Que  omen  deseaua, 

Filosofos  honrrados 
E ver  cobdiciava. 

Lo  que  de  aquellos  sabyos 
El  cobdiqiaua,  auia ; 

Eran  sus  petafios, 

E su  sabyduria. 


No.  Ill  ] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


489 


Ally  lo  fallara 
En  el  libro  sygnado, 
Respuesta  avra 
Dellos  por  su  dyctado. 

Aprendera  nueva  cosa 
De  niuy  buen  cierto, 

De  mucha  bueiia  glossa 
Que  fyzieron  al  testo. 

Non  querria  synon  leer 
Sus  letras  e sus  versos 
Mas,  que  non  ver 
Sus  carnes  e sus  huessos. 

La  su  sabencia  pura 
Escryta  la  dexaron ; 

Sin  ninguna  voltura 
Coporal  la  asumaron. 

Si  buelta  terrenal 
De  ningun  elemento 
Saber  celestial 
Claro  entendimiento ; 

Por  esto  solo  quier 
Todo  ome  de  cordura 
A los  sabios  ver, 

E non  por  la  lygura. 

Por  ende  tal  amigo 
Non  ha  como  el  libro 
Para  los  sabios  digo, 

Que  con  cortes  non  lidio, 

Ser  syeruo  del  sabio 
E syeruo  del  omen  nesqio, 
Destos  dos  me  agrauio, 
Que  andan  por  un  presqio. 

El  omen  torpe  es 
La  peor  animalia 
Que  en  el  mundo  es, 
Cierto  e syn  falia. 

Non  entyende  fazer 
Synon  deslealtad ; 

No  es  su  plazer 
Synon  fazer  maldad. 

Lo  que  es  mas  entyende 
Que  bestia  en  acucia, 

En  enganos  lo  espiende 
E en  fazer  malyqia  ; 

Non  puede  otro  aver 
En  el  mundo  tal  amigo, 
Como  el  buen  saber 
Nin  peor  enemigo 


Que  la  su  torpedat, 

Que  del  torpe  su  sana 
Mas  pesa  en  verdat 
Que  arena  e mafia. 

Non  ha  tan  peligrosa 
Nin  ocasion  tamana, 

Como  en  tierra  dobdosa 
Camino  sin  conpafia. 

Nin  tan  esforcada  cosa 
Como  la  verdat, 

Nin  cosa  mas  dobdosa 
Que  la  deslealtad. 

El  sabio  coronada 
Leona  scmeja  ; 

La  verdat  es  formada 
La  materia  gulpeja. 

Dizyr  sienpre  verdat 
Maguer  que  dafio  tenga, 

E non  la  falsedat 
Maguer  pro  della  venga. 

Non  ha  cosa  mas  larga 
Que  la  lengua  del  mintroso, 
Nin  aura  mas  amarga 
De  comienco  sabroso. 

Faze  rrycos  los  omes 
Con  sus  prometyraientos 
Despues  fallanse  pobres 
( )mes  llenos  de  vyentos. 

Las  orejas  tiene  faltas 
El  coracon  fanbriento 
El  que  las  oye  tanlas 
Cosas  dize  cimiento. 

Non  ha  fuerte  cosa  castillo 
Mas  que  la  lealtad, 

Nin  tan  ancho  portyllo 
Como  la  mala  verdat. 

Non  ha  ome  tan  cobardo 
Como  el  que  mal  ha  fecho, 

Ni  baragan  tan  fuerte  grande, 
Como  el  que  trae  derecho. 

Non  ha  tan  syn  verguenQa 
Como  es  el  derecho, 

Que  faze  esa  fuer^a 
Del  dauo  que  del  prouecho. 

Tan  syn  piedat  meta 
Al  pobre  e al  rrico, 

E con  un  ojo  cata 
Al  grande  e al  chico. 


VOL.  III. 


62 


490 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


A1  sefior  non  lisonja 
Mas  que  al  servi^ial ; 

El  rrey  non  aventaja 
Sobre  su  officyal. 

Para  el  juez  nialo 
Fazese  del  muy  franco  ; 

Al  que  no  lo  tyendalo 
Faze  vara  del  arco. 

El  mundo,  en  verdat, 

He  tres  cosas  se  mantyen, 
He  juyzio,  e de  verdat, 

E paz,  que  dellos  vyen. 

El  juyzio  es 
La  piedra  ametal ; 

De  todas  estas  tres 
Es  la  que  mas  val. 

Ca  el  juysio  fas 
Descobryr  la  verdat, 

E con  la  verdat 
Viene  e amistad. 

Et  pues  por  el  juyzio 
El  mundo  se  mantyene. 

Tan  honrrado  ofy^io 
Baldonar  non  conuiene. 

Deuiase  catar  antes 
De  dar  tal  petycion 
Al  omen  que  byen  cate, 

Que  le  es  su  entyncion. 

Tal  omen  que  no  mude 
La  entyncion  del  oficio 
Ualdonar  non  convyene 
* * * * 

Ni  entyenda  nin  cuyde, 

Que  fue  dado  por  vicio. 

Ca  por  perro  del  ganado 
Es  puesto  el  pastor. 

Non  pone  el  ganado 
Por  la  pro  del  pastor. 

Non  cuyde  que  fue  fecho 
Por  que  por  presente 
Del  ageno  derecho 
Faga  al  su  paryente. 

Nin  por  que  de  por  suelto 
Al  que  fue  su  amigo, 

E syn  derecho  tuerto 
Faga  al  su  enemygo. 

Ca  non  se  puede  ayunar 
Jamas  este  pecado, 

Al  sano  perdonar 
Feridas  del  llagado. 


Al  pagado  sollar 
Demanda  del  for^ado ; 

Al  entrego  tostar 
La  voz  del  torty^iado. 

Por  amor  nin  presqio 
Maldizelo  la  ley, 

Ca  de  Dios  el  juyzio 
Es  solo  e del  rrey. 

De  las  vezes  tenyente 
Es  de  Dios  et  del  rrey, 

Por  que  judguen  lo  gento 
A derecho  e a la  ley. 

Mensajero  lo  fysieron 
De  una  cosa  sygnada, 

En  poder  no  le  dieron 
Cres^er  nin  menguar  nada. 

Para  sy  non  entyenda 
Leuar  sy  non  las  vozes ; 

Su  salario  a tyenda 
De  aquel  quel  da  las  vozes. 

Et  quel  obra  fysyere 
Tal  gualardon  avra, 

E que  en  esto  entendyere 
Jamas  non  errara. 

Al  juez  syn  mali^ia 
Es  afan  e enbargo,  ^ 

E juez  syn  codicjia 
Valele  un  obrado. 

Cobdi^ia  e derecho, 

Esto  es  cosa  cierta. 

Non  entraran  en  un  techo 
Nin  so  una  cubyerta. 

Nunca  de  una  camisa 
Amas  se  vistieron ; 

Jamas  de  una  deuisa 
Senores  nunca  fueron. 

Quando  cobdicia  vyene 
Derecho  luego  sale ; 

Do  este  poder  tyene, 

Este  otro  poco  vale. 

El  oficio  al  omen 
Es  enpresentada  cosa, 

E la  buena  costunbre 
Es  joya  muy  pres^iada. 

Quien  de  Dios  tyene 
Fuerca,  non  faga  del  anillo  ; 
Guarde  Dios  la  cabe^a 
Que  non  le  manguara  el  capillo. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


491 


Lo  que  es  suyo  pierde 
Omen  por  su  maldat, 

E lo  ageno  puede 
Ganarlo  por  bondat. 

Perdezsea  un  consejo 
Por  tres  cosas  priuado, 

Saber  el  been  consejo 
Que  non  es  escucliado, 

E las  armas  tener 
El  que  no  las  defyende, 

E algo  aver 

El  que  non  lo  despyende. 

Fallo  tres  dolencias, 

Que  non  puede  guares^er, 

Nin  ha  tales  especias 
Que  las  puedan  veneer. 

El  pobre  peresoso 
Non  puede  aver  consejo, 

Mai  queren^ia  de  envidioso 
E dolencia  de  onbre  viejo. 

Ssi  de  los  pies  guaresge, 

Duele  luego  la  mano  ; 

Del  ba^o  adoleqe, 

Quando  del  ffigado  es  sano. 

Et  mal  querencia  que  vyen 
De  ^elo  non  se  puede 
Partyr  syn  aquel  byen  ; 

El  que  lo  ha  non  pyerde. 

A los  oraes  el  celo 
Mata  e la  cobdicia  ; 

Pocos  haze  el  qielo 
Sanos  desta  dolencia. 

Hacelo  uno  de  otro, 

El  alto  e el  symple  ; 

E el  que  tyene  quatro 
Tanto  de  lo  que  1’  cumple. 

Quanto  quier  que  mas  algo 
Ha  el  su  vezino, 

Tyene  todo  su  algo 
Por  nado  el  mesquino. 

Tan  hien  grant  mal  le  faz, 

Non  le  teniendo  tuerto, 

Por  venyr  tu  en  paz 
Sse  tyene  el  por  muerto. 

Que  mas  que  sie  venga  quisiste 
Aver  del  enbidioso, 

Que  estar  el  triste 
Quando  tu  estas  gozoso. 


Tres  son  los  que  vienen 
Cuytados  syn  cuydado, 

E de  los  que  mas  deuen 
Dolerse  todo  el  mundo. 

Eijo  dalgo  que  menester 
Ha  al  ome  villano, 

E con  mengua  a meter 
Se  vyene  en  su  mano. 

E fidalgo  de  natura, 

Usado  de  franqueza, 

Traxolo  la  ventura 
A mano  de  vyleza. 

E justo,  ser  mandt^o 
De  senor  torty^iero 
Ha  de  fazer  fuercado, 

E el  otro  tercero. 

Sabio  que  ha  por  premia 
De  seruir  senor  nescio, 

Toda  la  otra  lazerya 
Ante  esta  es  grant  vi^io. 

De  dos  panes  se  gouierna, 
E de  fuera  se  farta, 

E en  cada  tauerna 
Beue  hasta  que  se  farta. 

Este  solo  en  el  mundo 
Byue  sabrosa  uyda, 

E otro  ha  segundo 
De  otra  mayor  medida. 

El  torpe  hien  andante, 

Que  con  su  grant  torpeza 
Non  le  pasa  en  talante, 

Que  puede  aver  pobreza  ? 

Fazyendo  lo  quel’  plaze 
Non  entyende  el  mundo, 

Nin  los  cambios  que  faze 
Su  rrueda  a menudo. 

Cuyda  que  estara 
Syenpre  de  una  color, 

E que  non  abaxara 
El  de  aquel  valor. 

Como  el  pesce  en  el  rrio 
Vicioso  e rryendo. 

Non  sabe  el  sandio 
La  red  que  1 va  texendo. 

Mas  omen  entendido 
Sabio  por  byen  que  1 vaya. 
Non  le  puede  fazer  el  mundo 
Bien  con  que  plazer  aya. 


492 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Rescelando  del  mundo 
E de  sus  cambiamientos, 

E de  come  a menudo 
Se  cambia  los  sus  vientos. 

Sabe  que  la  ryqueza 
Pobreza  es  su  cima, 

E sola  alteza 
Yaze  fonda  ciraa. 

Ca  cl  mundo  conosce, 

E que  su  buena  obra 
jMuy  ayna  falles^e 
E se  pasa  como  sonbra. 

Quaijto  es  el  estado 
Mayor  de  su  mcdyda 
Ha  omen  mas  cuydado 
Teniendo  la  cuyda. 

Quanto  mas  cae  de  alto 
Tanto  peor  se  fiere, 

Quanto  mas  bien  ha,  tanto 
Mas  teme,  sy  se  pyerde. 

A1  que  por  llano  anda 
Non  tyene  que  se  des<jender  ; 
El  que  non  tyene  nada 
Non  rccela  perder. 

Erfuerco  on  dos  cosas 
Non  puede  omen  tomar, 
Tanto  son  dubdosas 
El  mundo  e la  mar. 

El  bien  non  es  seguro, 

Tan  ciertos  son  sus  cambios  ; 
Non  es  su  plazer  pure 
Con  sus  malos  rresabios. 

Torrna  su  detenencia 
La  mar  mansa  muy  braua ; 

E el  mundo  oy  despre^ia 
A1  que  ayer  honrraua. 

Por  ende  el  grant  estado 
Ha  omen  de  saber  ; 

Fazelo  beuyr  cuytado 
E tristeza  auer. 

El  omen  que  es  onbre 
Syempre  byue  cuytado ; 

De  rryco  es  pobre, 

Nunca  le  mengua  cuydado. 

El  afan  del  fidalgo 
Sufre  en  sus  cuydados, 

E el  uyllano  largo 
Afan  en  su  costados. 


El  omen  prcs^iado 
Non  es  mas  quel  muerto, 

E el  rryco  es  guerreado 
Non  teniendo  tuerto. 

Del  omen  uyuo  dizen 
Las  gentes  sus  maldades, 

E dcsquo  muerte  fazen 
Cuenta  de  sus  bondades. 

Quando  pro  non  le  terrna 
Loanlo  vien  la  gente, 

De  lo  que  le  non  verna 
Bien  danle  largamente. 

Et  quando  es  byuo  callan 
Con  ^elo  todos  quantos 
Byenes  ha  en  el,  e fallan 
Desque  mueren  dos  tantos. 

Que  myentra  byuo  fuere 
Syenpre  le  cres^eran  celosos. 
E mengua  desque  mueren 
E crescen  mintrosos. 

Quien  de  sus  manas  quierc 
Ser  enderesgado 
E guardado  quesyere 
Ser  bien  de  pecado, 

Nunca  jamas  faga 
Escondydamente 
Cosa  que  I’pesara, 

Que  lo  sepan  la  gente. 

Poridat,  que  querria 
Encobrir  de  enemigo. 

Non  la  descubra 
Tan  poco  al  amigo  ; 

Que  puede  ocasionar, 
Eyando  de  amigo, 

Que  se  podra  tornar 
Con  Sana  enemigo. 

Que  por  poca  contyenda 
Se  canbian  los  talantes, 

E sabran  su  fasyenda 
Omens  que  querria  antes. 

Moryr  quebrantado 
Oviese  el  su  fecho, 

E rrepentyr  sea  quando 
Non  le  tterna  prouecho. 

Si  esto  que  a el 
Otro  amigo  suyo, 

E el,  fyando  del, 

Descobrir  sea  lo  tuyo. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


493 


Et  el  amor  del  tuyo 
No  le  aprouecha[ra], 

Pues  quel  amygo  suyo 
Tu  fasyenda  sabra  ; 

Ca,  puesto  que  non  venga 
Dauo  por  el  prymero, 

Non  se  que  pro  te  tenga, 
Pues  lo  sabe  el  ter^ero. 

Enxemplo  es  tercero 
Que  lo  que  saben  tres 
Es  ya  pleyto  plazero 
Sabelo  toda  rey.  [sic] 

Demas  es  grant  denueslo 
E fealdat  e mengua ; 

Su  corazon  angosto, 

E larga  la  su  lengua. 

Son  las  buenas  costunbres 
Ligeras  de  nonbrar, 

Mas  son  pocos  los  omens 
Que  las  saben  obrar. 

Seria  muy  buen  omen 
El  que  sopiese  obrar 
Tanto  buena  costunbre, 

Que  sabria  yo  non  obrar. 

Todo  omen  non  es 
Para  dezyr  e fazer ; 

E asi  como  alguna  vez 
En  las  contar  plazer 

Pesar  tomo  despues, 

Por  que  las  se  nonbrar 
Tan  byen  que  cunple  pues 
Non  las  se  obrar. 

Entregome  en  nonbrallas, 
Como  sy  las  sopiese 
Obrar,  e encontrallas 
Como  sy  las  sopiese ; 

Syn  las  obrar  dezyrlas, 

.Sy  a my  pro  non  tyen, 
Algunos  en  oyrlas 
Aprenderan  algunt  byen. 

Non  dezyr  nin  fazer. 

Non  es  cosa  loada  ; 

Quanto  quier  de  plazer 
Mas  vale  algo  que  nada. 

Non  tengas  por  vil  omen 
Por  que  pequenno  quel  veas  , 
Nin  escryuas  tu  nonbre 
En  carta  que  non  leas. 


De  lo  que  tu  querras 
Efazer  al  tu  enemygo, 
Deso  te  guardaras 
Mas  que  del  te  castyllo. 

Ca  por  le  enpes^er 
Te  torrnas  en  mal,  quanto 
Non  tc  podra  nascer 
Del  enemigo  tanto. 

Todo  el  tu  cuydar 
Prymero  e mediano 
Sea  en  byen  guardar 
Luego  a ty  de  mano. 

Et  desque  ya  pusyeres 
Byen  en  saluo  lo  tuyo, 
Entonqes  sy  quisyeres 
Piensa  en  dano  suyo. 

Fasta  que  puesto  aya 
En  saluo  su  rreyno, 

El  rrey  cuerdo  non  vaya 
Guerrear  el  ageno. 

Lo  que  ayna  quisyeres 
Fazer,  faz  de  vagar; 

Ca  sy  priesa  tu  dyeres 
Convyene  enbargar. 

Por  enderescar  erranca 
• Nascera  del  quexarte, 

E sera  tu  tardanca 
!\Ias  por  apresurarte. 

Quien  rrebato  senbro 
Cojo  rrepetymiento, 

Quien  con  sosyego  obro 
Acabo  su  talento. 

Nunca  omen  perdio 
Cosa  por  la  sufrenqia, 

E quien  priesa  se  dio 
Rrescebio  rrepentencia. 

De  peligro  e mengua 
Sy  quisyeres  ser  quito, 
Guardate  de  tu  lengua 
E mas  de  tu  espirito. 

De  una  fabla  conquista 
Puede  nas9er  e muerte  ; 

E de  una  sola  vista 
Crescer  grant  amor  fuerte. 

Pero  lo  que  fablares 
Sy  cn  escrito  no  des, 

Sy  tu  pro  failures, 

Negar  lo  has  despues. 


PP 


494 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[An-,  H. 


Negar  lo  que  se  dize, 

Han  vezes,  han  lugar ; 

Mas  sy  escryto  yaze 
Non  se  puede  negar. 

La  palabra  a poca 
Sazon  es  oluidada, 

E la  escritura  fynca 
Para  syenpre  guardada. 

E la  rra^on  que,  puesta 
Non  yace  en  escryto, 

Tal  es  como  saeta, 

Que  non  llega  al  tyro. 

Los  unos  de  una  guisa 
Dizen,  los  otros  de  otra, 
Nunca  de  su  pesquisa 
Yyene  cierta.  obra. 

De  los  que  y estouyeron 
Pocos  se  acordaran ; 

De  como  lo  oyeron 
Non  concertaran. 

Sy  quier  braua  sy  pransa. 
La  palabra  es  tal 
Como  sombra  que  pasa, 

E non  dexa  senal. 

Non  ha  lanqa  que  pase 
Todas  las  armaduras, 

Nin  que  tanto  traspase 
Como  las  escrituras. 

Que  la  saeta  lanca 
Fasta  un  qierto  fyto, 

E la  letra  alcanca 
De  Burgos  a Egibto. 

Que  la  saeta  fyere 
Al  byuo,  que  se  syente, 

E la  letra  conquiere 
En  vida  e en  muerte. 

La  saeta  non  llega 
Sy  non  al  que  es  presente, 

E la  escrytura  llega 
Al  de  allende  Oryente. 

De  saeta  defyende 
A omen  el  escudo, 

E de  letra  non  puede 
Defender  todo  el  mundo. 

A cada  plazer  ponen 
Los  sabios  un  sygnado 
Tienpo,  e desde  ende  vyenen 
Todauia  menguado. 


Plazer  de  nueuo  pano 
Quanto  un  mes  despues  ; 

Toda  via  han  dano, 

Fasta  que  rroto  es. 

Un  aho  cosa  nueva 
En  quanto  la  llauilla, 

Es  flor  blanca  fasta  que  llueu;, 
E torrna  amarylla. 

Demas  que  es  natura 
Del  omen  enojarse, 

De  lo  qne  mucho  tura 
E con  ello  quexarse 

Por  tal  demudar  cosa 
Nueua  de  cada  dia, 

Por  poco  la  fermosura 
Por  fea  canbiaria. 

Plazer  que  toma  omen 
Con  quien  byen  lo  entyende. 
Mejor  plazer  omen 
Tomar  nunca  puede. 

Pues  la  cosa  non  sabe 
Con  que  a mi  plaze, 

Que  ture  o que  acabe, 

Dello  fuera  non  faze  ; 

Mas  la  que  entendyere 
Que  dello  aplazer 
Fara  quanto  podyere 
Por  la  fazer  cres^er. 

Por  aquesto  fallesce 
El  plazer  corporal, 

E el  que  syempre  cresce 
Es  el  espirytual. 

Tristeza  ya  non  syento 
Que  mas  me  faz  quemar, 

Que  plazer  que  eo  cierto 
Que  se  ha  de  acabar. 

Turable  plazer  puedo 
Dezyr  del  buen  amygo  ; 

Lo  que  me  dyz  entyendo 
E el  lo  que  yo  digo. 

Muy  grant  plazer  en  que 
Me  entyende  me  faz, 

E mas  por  que  ese  que 
Del  my  bien  le  plaz. 

Aprendo  toda  via 
Del  buen  entendimiento, 

E el  de  mi  cada  dia 
Nuevo  departimiento. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RADBI  DE  SANTOB. 


495 


El  sabio,  qiie  de  glosas 
Ciertas  fazer  non  queda, 

Dize,  que,  de  las  eosas 
Que  son  de  una  manera 

Et  en  el  mundo,  non  auia ; 
Nin  sobre  fyerro,  oro  ; 

E en  grande  mejorya 
Commo  ha  un  omen  sobre  otrol 

Ca  el  mejor  cauallo 
En  el  mundo  non  val  cierto, 

E un  omen  diz  fallo 
Que  vale  de  otros  un  ciento. 

Onca  de  mejoria 
Del  oro  espiritual 
Comptar  non  se  podria 
Con  quanto  el  mundo  val. 

Todos  los  corporales 
Syn  entendimiento, 

Mayormente  metales, 

Que  non  ha  sentymiento  ; 

Todas  sus  mejorias 
Podrian  poco  montar, 

E en  muy  pocos  dias 
Non  se  puede  descontar. 

Las  cosas  de  syn  lengua 
E syn  entendymiento, 

Su  plazer  va  a mengua 
E a fallescimiento. 

Desque  a desdezyr 
Su  conpustura  venga, 

Non  sabe  dezyr 
Cosa  que  la  mantenga. 

Por  esto  el  plazer 
Del  omen  crcscer  deue 
En  dezyr  e en  fazer 
Cosa  que  lo  rremueue. 

El  omen  de  metales 
Dos  es  confacionado, 

Metales  desyguales 
Uno  vyl  e otro  honrrado. 

El  uno  terenal, 

E el  bestia  semeja, 

E el  otro  celestial, 

Angeles  le  apareja. 

Et  en  que  come  e beue 
Semeja  alymalia ; 

Asi  byue  et  muere 
Commo  bestia  syn  falla. 


Et  en  el  mundo  entendimiento 
Commo  el  angel  es  ; 

Non  ha  deprymento 
Sy  por  cuerpo  non  fues. 

Que,  en  preso  de  un  dinero. 
Ha  mas  de  un  entendimiento ; 
Por  aquello  sefiero 
Vale  un  omen  por  cierto. 

Ca,  de  aquel  cabo  tyene 
Todo  su  byen  el  omen  ; 

De  aquella  parte  le  vyene 
Todo  buena  costunbre, 

Mesura  e franqueza, 

Bueno  seso  e saber, 

Cordura  e sympleza, 

E las  cosas  saber. 

Del  otro  cabo  nasqe 
Toda  la  mala  maiia, 

E por  ally  cresqe 
La  cobdicia  e saua. 

De  ally  le  vyene  malicia 
E la  mala  verdat, 

Forrnicio  e dolencia 
E toda  enfermedat. 

Et  engaiios  en  arte 
E mala  entyncio, 

Que  trunca  Dios  a parte 
En  la  mala  cobdicia. 

Por  ende  non  fallesqe 
Plazer  de  compahia, 

E de  omens  sabios  creqe 
E va  a mejoria. 

Plaze  a omen  con  ellos 
E a ellos  con  el ; 

Entyende  el  a ellos 
E ellos  tan  byen  a el. 

Porque  aquesta  conpafia 
De  omen  entendido, 

Alegria  tamaila 
Non  ha  en  el  mundo. 

Pero  amigo  claro, 

Leal,  e verdadero, 

Es  de  fallar  muy  caro  ; 

Non  se  falla  a dynero. 

Omen  es  grande  de  topar 
En  conplision  egual, 

De  fallar  en  su  par 
Buen  amigo  leal. 


496 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


Amig-o  de  la  buena 
Andancja  quando  cres^e 
Luego  asy  se  tonia, 
Quando  ella  fallesce. 

Amigo  quanto  loar 
De  bien  que  no  fezyste, 
Non  deues  del  fiar 
El  inal  que  tu  obraste. 

Afeartelo  ban 
En  pos  ty  ^ierto  seas, 
Pues  tu  costunbre  ban 
De  lysonjar  byen  creas. 

For  lysonjar  te  quien 
Te  dixere  de  otry  mal, 

A otros  atan  byen 
Dira  de  ty  al. 

El  omen  lysonjero 
Miente  a cada  uno, 

Ca  amor  verdadera 
Non  ha  con  ninguno. 

Anda  joyas  faziendo 
De  mal  deste  a este, 

Mal  de  uno  dezyendo 
Fara  al  otro  presente. 

Tal  omen  nunca  acojas 
Jamas  en  tu  conpaiiia, 

Que  con  las  sus  lysonjas 
A los  omens  enganan. 

Quien  una  hermandat 
Aprenderla  quisyera, 

E una  amistad, 

Usar  sabor  oviera, 

Syempre  mientes  deuia 
Meter  en  las  tyseras ; 
Dellas  aprenderian 
Muchas  buenas  maneras. 

Et  quando  meto  mientes 
Cosas  tan  derechas, 

Non  fallo  entre  las  gentes 
Como  son  las  tyseras. 

Paren  al  que  las  parten 
Et  non  por  se  vengar, 
Synon  con  grant  talante 
Que  ha  de  se  juntar. 

Como  en  rio  quedo 
El  que  metyo  entrellas 
Dentro  el  su  dedo, 

Metio  entre  dos  muelas. 


Quien  mal  trahe  dellas 
El  mesmo  ge  lo  busca, 

Que  de  grado  dellas 
Non  lo  buscaran  nunca. 

Desque  de  entre  ellas  sal 
Tanto  son  pagadas ; 

Que  nunca  fazen  mal 
En  quanto  son  juntadas. 

Yaze  boca  con  boea 
E manos  sobre  manos ; 

Tan  semejados  nunca 
Yo  vy  dos  hermanos. 

Tan  grande  amor  ovieron 
Leal  e verdadero, 

Que  amas  se  ouyeron 
En  un  solo  ^intero. 

Por  amor  de  estar  en  uno 
Syempre  aman  a dos  ; 

Por  fazer  de  dos  uno 
Fazen  de  uno  dos. 

Non  ha  mejor  rriqueza 
Que  buena  hermandat, 

N in  tan  mala  pobreza 
Commo  la  soledat. 

La  soledat  aduce 
Mal  pensamiento  fuerte ; 
Por  ende  el  sabio  dize, 
Conpaiiia  o muerte ; 

Porque  tal  podria 
Ser  la  soledat, 

Que  mas  que  ella  valdria 
Esta  cs  la  verdat. 

Mal  es  la  soledat ; 

Mas  peer  es  conpaiia 
De  omen  syn  verdat, 

Que  a omen  engaiia. 

Peer  conpaiiia  destas 
Es  omen  torpe  pesado  ; 
Querria  traer  a cuestas 
Albarda  mal  de  su  grado. 

Mueuo  pleytesia 
Por  tal  que  me  dexase  ; 
Digol  que  non  querria, 

Que  por  mi  se  estoruasse. 

Yd  uos  en  ora  buena 
A ubrar  vuestra  fazyenda, 
Quica  que  pro  alguna 
Vos  verna  a la  tienda. 


No.  III.] 


EL  llABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


49 


El  diz,  por  bien  non  tenga 
Dios  quo  solo  fynquedes, 
Fasta  quo  alguno  venga 
Otro  con  quien  fabledes. 

El  cuyda  que  plazer 
Me  faze  su  conpana, 

E yo  querria  mas  yazer 
Solo  en  la  montana  ; 

Yazer  en  la  montana 
A peligro  de  syerpes, 

Que  non  entre  conpanas 
De  omens  pesados  torpes. 

El  cuydaua  que  yrse 
Seria  demesurado, 

E yon  temo  caerse 
Con  nusco  el  sobrado. 

Ca  de  los  sus  enojos 
Esto  ya  tan  cargado, 

Que,  fasta  en  mis  ojos, 

Son  mas  que  el  pesado. 

El  medio  mal  seria 
Sy  el  callar  quisyera  ; 

Yon  del  cuenta  faria 
Como  sy  un  poste  fuese. 

Non  dexaria  nunca 
Lo  que  me  plaze  aydar, 

Mas  el  razones  busca 
Para  nunca  quedar. 

No  le  cumple  dezyr  juntas 
Quantas  vanidades  cuyda, 
Mas  el  fare  preguntas 
Nescias  aquel  rrecuyda ; 

E querria  ser  muerto 
Ante  que  le  rresponder, 

E querria  ser  sordo 
Antes  que  lo  entender. 

Cierto  es  par  de  muerte 
La  soledat ; mas  tal 
Conpania  como  esta, 

Estar  solo  mas  val. 

Sy  mal  es  estar  solo, 

Peor  es  tal  conpaiiia ; 

E bien  cumplido  dole 
Fallar  quien  lo  podria. 

Non  ha  del  todo  cosa 
Mala  nin  toda  una. 

Mas  que  sayan  fermosura 
Que  en  fea  agena. 


Omen  non  cobdiciaua 
Synon  lo  que  tyene, 

E luego  lo  despre9ia 
Desque  a mano  le  vyene. 

Ssuma  de  la  rrazon 
Non  ha  en  el  mundo  cosa, 

Que  non  P aya  ssazon, 

Quier  fea  o fermosa. 

Peor  lo  que  es  omens 
Todos  en  general, 

Lo  que  de  las  costunbres 
Es  lo  comunal. 

Mal  es  mucho  fablar 
Mas  peor  es  ser  mudo  ; 

Ca  non  fue  por  callar 
La  lengua,  segunt  cuydo. 

Pero  la  mejoria 
Del  callar  non  podemos 
Negar  de  todavia  ; 

Convien  que  la  tomemos. 

Por  que  la  myatad  de 
Quando  oyamos  fablemos, 

Una  lenga  (sic)  por  ende 
E dos  orejas  auemos. 

Que  en  mucho  que  en  fablar 
Syn  grant  sabiduria, 

Cierto  en  se  callar 
Mejor  baratarya. 

El  sabio  que  loar 
El  callar  byen  querria 
E el  fablar  afear, 

Esta  razon  dezya  : 

Ssi  fuese  el  fablar 
De  plata  figurado,  » 

Seria  el  callar 
De  oro  debuxado. 

De  byenes  del  callar 
La  pas  una  de  ciento, 

De  males  de  fablar 
El  mejor  es  el  riebto. 

E dize  mas,  a buelta 
De  mucha  mejoria, 

E el  callar  syn  esta 
Sobre  el  fablar  auia ; 

Sus  orejas  faryan 
Pro  solamente  a el, 

De  su  lengua  auyan 
Pro  los  otros,  e non  el. 


VOL.  III. 


63 


pp 


498 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H 


Contesce  al  que  escuchan, 
Aun  quando  yo  fablo, 

Del  byen  se  aprouecban 
E rrcutamelo  malo. 

El  sabio,  por  aquesta 
Razon,  callar  querria, 

For  que  su  fabla  presta 
Solo  al  que  lo  oya ; 

Et  querria  castigarse 
Ell  otro  el  callando, 
iMas  que  castigarse 
Otro,  en  el  fablando. 

Las  bestias  ban  afan 
E mal  por  no  fablar  ; 

E los  omes  lo  ban 
liOs  mas  por  no  callar. 

El  callar  tiempo  no  pierde, 
E pierdelo  e fablar; 

Por  cnde  ome  no  puede 
Perder  por  el  callar. 

El  calla  razon, 

Que  le  cupliera  fablar  ; 

No  megua  sazon 
Que  perdio  por  callar. 

Mas  quien  fabla  rrazon 
Que  deueria  callar, 

Perdio  ya  la  sazon 
Que  no  podra  cobrar. 

Lo  que  oy  se  callare 
Puedese  eras  fablar, 

E lo  que  oy  se  fablare. 

No  se  puede  callar. 

Lo  dicbo  dicbo  es, 

• Lo  que  dicbo  no  es 
Dezyr  lo  bas  despues, 

Si  oy  no,  sera  eras. 

De  fabla,  que  podemos 
NTgunt  mal  afear, 

Es  la  que  despendemos 
En  loar  el  callar. 

Por  que  sepamos 
Que  no  ha  mal  syn  byen, 

E byen  que  mal  digamos  ; 

A par  dello  convyen. 

Pues  que  tanto  denostado 
El  fablar  ya  abemos, 
Semejante  guisado 
De  oy  mas  que  lo  leemos. 


E pues  tanto  avemos 
Loado  el  callar, 

Sus  males  cotaremos, 

Loando  el  fablar. 

Con  el  fablar  dezymos 
Mucho  bien  del  callar, 
Callando  no  podemos 
Dez)rr  byen  del  fablar. 

Por  ende  es  derecho 
Que  sus  byenes  contemos, 

Ca  byenes  ba  de  fecho, 

Por  que  no  lo  denostemos. 

Porque  todo  ome  vea, 

Que  en  el  mundo  cosa 
Non  ha  del  todo  fea, 

NT  del  todo  fermosa. 

Et  el  callar  jamas 
Del  todo  no  leemos, 

Sy  no  fablemos,  mas 
Que  vestias  no  valemos. 

Sy  los  sabios  callaran, 

El  saber  se  perderya  ; 

Sy  ellos  no  fablaran, 

Disqiplo  no  ovyeran. 

Del  fablar  escryvamos, 

Por  ser  el  muy  noble, 

Aun  que  pocos  fallamos 
Que  lo  sepan  como  cuple. 

Mas  el  que  sabe  byen 
Fablar,  no  ba  tal  cosa, 

Que  diz  lo  que  covyen, 

E lo  demas  es  cosa. 

Por  bien  fablar,  horrado 
Era  en  toda  pla^a  ; 

Por  el  sera  nobrado, 

E ganara  andanca. 

Por  razonarse  bien 
Sera  ome  amado  ; 

E sy  salario  tyen, 

Los  omes  a mandado. 

Cosa  que  menos  cuesta 
E que  tanto  pro  tenga. 

No  como  rrespuesta 
Cotra  o lengua 

No  ban  tan  fuerte  gigante 
Como  la  luengua  (sic)  tyerra, 
Aunque  asy  qbrante 
A la  safia  la  pierna. 


No.  III.] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


499 


Ablanda  la  palabra 
Buena  la  dura  cosa, 

A la  voluntad  agra 
Far  dulce  e sabrosa 

Sy  termyno  obyese 
El  fablar  mesurado, 

Que  dezyr  no  podiese, 

Sy  no  lo  guysado  1 

En  el  mundo  no  avria 
Cosa  tan  presciada, 

La  su  grant  mejoria 
No  podrya  ser  conplida. 

Mas  porque  ha  poder 
De  mal  se  rrazonar, 

For  eso  el  su  perder 
Es  mas  que  el  ganar. 

Que  los  torpes,  mill  tantos 
Son  los  que  los  entendidos, 

E no  saben  en  qntos 
Peligros  son  caydos. 

For  el  fablar  por  ede 
Es  el  callar  loado, 

Mas  por  el  q entyede 
Mucho  es  denostado. 

Ca  el  q apercebyr 
Se  sabe  en  fablar, 

Sus  byenes  escreuir 
En  tablas  no  podran 

El  fablar  es  clareza, 

E el  callar  escureza  ; 

E el  fablar  es  fraqueza, 

Et  el  callar  escuseza. 

Et  el  fablar  ligereza, 

E el  callar  pereza  ; 

Et  el  fablar  es  franqueza, 

El  callar  pobreza. 

Et  el  callar  torpedat, 

El  fablar  saber ; 

El  callar  ceguedat, 

E el  fablar  vista  aver. 

Cuerpo  es  de  callar, 

E el  saber  su  alma  ; 

Ome  es  fablar 
Et  el  callar  su  cama. 

El  callar  es  tardada, 

E el  fablar  ayna  ; 

El  saber  es  espada, 

Et  el  callar  su  vayna. 


Talega  es  el  callar, 

Et  algo  que  yaze 
En  ella  es  el  fablar, 

E prouecho  no  faze. 

En  quanto  encerrado 
En  ella  estudiere. 

Non  sera  mas  horrado 
For  ello  cuyo  fuere. 

El  callar  es  niguno 
Que  no  meres^e  nobre, 

E el  fablar  es  algo 
Et  por  el  es  ome  hdbre. 

Figura  es  el  fablar 
A1  callar,  e asy 
No  sabe  el  callar 
De  otro,  nl  de  ssy. 

El  fablar  sabe  byen 
El  callar  razonar, 

Que  mal  guisado  tyen 
De  lo  gualardonar. 

Tal  es  en  toda  costubre, 
Sy  byen  parares  mietes, 
Fallaras  en  todo  onbre 
Que  loes  et  que  denuestes. 

Segunt  que  el  rayz  tyen, 
El  arbon  asy  cresqe ; 

Qual  es  el  ome  e quien, 
En  sus  obras  parestje. 

Qual  talante  ovyere 
Tal  rrostro  mostrara, 

E como  sesudo  fuere 
Tal  palabra  oyra. 

Syn  tacha  son  falladas 
Dos  costubres  cruetas, 

A mas  son  ygualadas 
Que  no  han  cdprimentas. 

La  una  es  el  saber, 

E la  otra  es  el  bien  fazer  ; 
Qualquier  destas  aver 
Es  cdplido  plazer. 

De  todo  quanto  fasc 
El  ome  se  arrepiente. 

Con  lo  que  oy  le  plase 
Cras  toma  mal  tal  ate 

El  placer  de  la  sciencia 
Es  complido  placer, 

Obra  sin  rependcncia 
Es  la  del  bien  facer. 


500 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[Apr.  H. 


Quanto  mas  aprendio 
Tanto  mas  placer  tiene, 
Nunca  se  arrepintio 
Ome  de  pla9er  bien. 

Ome  que  cuerdo  fuere, 
Siempre  se  res^elara ; 

Del  gran  bien  que  oviere 
Mucho  nol  fincara. 

Ca  el  grant  bien  se  puede 
Perder  por  culpa  de  hombre, 
E el  saber  nol  deliende 
De  al  fl  non  [de]  ser  pobre. 

Ca  el  bien  que  dello 
Fisiere,  le  fincara, 

E para  siempre  aquello 
Guardado  estara. 

E fucia  non  ponga 
Jamas  en  su  algo, 

Por  mucho  que  lo  tenga 
Bien  parado  e largo. 

Por  rason  que  en  el  mundo 
Han  las  cosas  zozobras, 

Fase  mucho  amenudo 
Contrarias  cosas  de  otras. 

Cambiase  como  el  mar 
De  abrego  a cierzo. 

Non  puede  ome  tomar 
En  cosa  del  esfuerzo. 

Non  deve  fiar  sol 
Un  punto  de  su  obra. 

Yeses  lo  pon  al  sol 
E veses  a la  sombra. 

Todavia,  por  cuanto 
La  rueda  se  trastorna 
El  su  bien,  el  zapato 
Fas  igual  de  corona. 

De  la  sierra  al  val, 

De  la  nube  al  abismo, 

Segunt  lo  pone  val 
Como  letra  de  guarismo. 

Sol  claro  e plasentero 
Las  nubes  fa^en  escuro  ; 

De  un  dia  entero 
Non  es  ome  seguro. 

El  ome  mas  non  bal, 

Nin  monta  su  persona 
De  bien  e asi  de  al, 

Como  la  espera  trastorna. 


El  ome  que  abiltado 
Es  en  su  descendida, 

Asi  mesmo  honrrado 
Es  en  la  subida. 

Por  eso  amenudo 
El  ome  entendido 
A los  Cambios  del  mundo 
Es  a bien  apercebido. 

Non  temer  apellido 
Los  omes  apercebidos. 

Mas  val  un  apercebido 
Que  muchos  anchalidos. 

Ome  cuerdo  non  puede 
Cuando  entronpezare 
Otre  que  tome  alegria 
De  su  pesar  pues  ome. 

Seguro  non  ha  que  tal 
A el  non  acaesca, 

Nin  se  alegre  del  mal 
Que  a otre  se  acontesce. 

De  haber  alegria 
Sin  pesar  nunca  cuide, 

Como  sin  noche  dia 
Jamas  haber  non  puede. 

La  merced  de  Dios  sola 
Es  la  fusia  cierta, 

Otra  ninguna  dola 

En  el  mundo  que  non  mienta. 

De  lo  que  a Dios  plase  • 

Nos  pesar  non  tomemos, 

E bien  es  cuanto  face 
E nos  nol  lo  entendemos. 

Al  ome  mas  le  dio 
E de  mejor  mercado, 

De  lo  que  entendio 
Que  le  era  mas  forzado. 

De  lo  que  mas  aprovecha. 
De  aquello  mas  habemos. 

Pan  e del  agua  mucha 
E del  ayre  tenemos. 

Todo  ome  de  verdat 
E bueno  estuptor 
De  contar  la  bondat 
De  su  buen  servidor. 

Cuando  serviese  por  prescio 
0 por  buen  gualardon, 
Mayormente  servicio 
Que  lo  serviendo  merescio. 


\o.  Ill  ] 


EL  RABBI  DE  SANTOB. 


501 


For  ende  un  servicial 
De  que  mueho  me  prescio, 
Quiero  tanto  es  leal 
Contar  el  su  bollicio. 

Ca  debdor  so  forzado 
Del  gran  bien  conoscer, 

Que  me  ban  adelantado 
Sin  gelo  merescer. 

Non  podria  nombrar, 

Nin  sabria  en  un  ano 
Su  servicio  contar, 

Cual  es  cuan  estrano. 

Sirve  boca  callando, 

Sin  faser- grandes  nuevas, 
Servicio  muy  granado 
Es  sin  ningunas  bielmas. 

Cosa  maravillosa 
E milagro  muy  fiero, 

Sin  le  decir  yo  cosa 
Ease  cuanto  quiero. 

Con  el  ser  yo  mudo, 

Non  me  podria  noscir, 

Ca  fas  quanto  quiero, 

Sin  gelo  yo  desir. 

Non  desir  e faser, 

Es  servicio  loado. 

Con  que  tome  plaser 
Todo  ome  granado. 

Ca  en  quanto  ome  e desir, 
Tanto  ha  mengua 
Del  faser,  e fallescer 
La  mano  por  la  lengua. 

Leyendo  e pensando 
Siempre  en  mi  servicio. 

Non  gelo  yo  nombrado 
Ease  quanto  cobdicio. 

Esta  cosa  mas  ayna 
Que  del  ninguna  nasce, 

Nin  quier  capa  nin  Sana, 

Nin  zapato  que  calze. 

Tal  qual  salio 
Del  vientre  de  su  madre, 

Tal  anda  en  mi  servicio, 

En  todo  lo  que  el  mande. 

E ningunt  gualardon 
Non  quiere  por  su  trabajo. 
Mas  quiere  servicio  en  don, 
Es  sin  ningunt  trabajo. 


Non  quier  manjar  comer, 
Sy  non  la  boca 
Un  poquillo  mojar 
En  gota  de  agua  poca. 

E luego  que  la  gosta, 
Semejal  que  tien  carga, 

E esparse  la  gota 
Jamas  della  non  traga. 

Non  ha  ojos,  nin  ve 
Cuanto  en  corazon  tengo, 

E sin  orejas  lo  oye, 

E tal  lo  fase  luego. 

Callo  yo  e el  calla, 

E amos  non  fablamos  ; 

En  callando  non  fabla, 

Lo  que  amos  buscamos. 

Non  quier  ningun  embargo 
De  comer  rescebir, 

De  su  afan  es  largo 
Para  buenos  servir. 

Si  me  plase  o pesa. 

Si  fea  o fermosa, 

Tal  mesma  la  fase, 

Qual  yo  pienso  la  cosa. 

Vesino  de  Castilla 
Por  la  su  entencion, 

Sabra  el  de  Sevilla 
En  la  su  cobdicion. 

Las  igentes  han  acordado 
Despagarse  del  non, 
bias  de  cosa  tan  pagado 
Non  so  yo  como  del  non. 

Del  dia  que  preguntado 
Ove  a mi  senora,  si  non 
Habia  otro  amado, 

Sy  non  yo,  dije  que  non. 

E syn  fuego  ome  vida 
Un  punto  non  habria, 

E sin  fierro  guarida 
Jamas  non  fallaria. 

Mil  tanto  mas  de  fierro 
Que  de  oro  fallamos, 

Por  que  salvos  de  yerro 
Unos  de  otros  seamos. 

Del  mundo  mal  desimos, 

E en  el  otro  mal 

Non  han,  si  non  nos  mismos 

Nin  vestijelos  sinal. 


502 


HISTORY  OF  SPANISH  LITERATURE. 


[App.  H. 


El  mundo  non  tien  ojo, 

Nin  entiende  faser 
A un  ome  enojo 
E a otro  plaser. 

Rason  a cada  uno 
Segunt  la  su  fasienda, 

El  non  lia  con  ninguno 
Amistad  contienda. 

Nin  se  paga,  nin  se  ensana, 
Nin  ana,  nin  desama, 

Nin  ha  ninguna  maua, 

Nin  responde,  nin  llama. 

El  es  uno  todavia 
Cuanto  es  denostado, 

A tal  como  el  dia 
Que  es  mucho  loado. 

El  vicio  razonable 
Vien  e tenlo  por  amigo, 

La  cuita  lo  baldona 
E tienlo  por  enemigo. 

Non  se  fallan  ningunt 
Canhio  los  sabidores, 

Los  canbios  son  segunt 
Los  sus  rrecebidores. 

La  espera  del  cielo 
Nos  fase  que  nos  mesce, 


Mas  amor  nin  celo 
De  cosa  non  le  cresce. 

So  un  cielo  todavia 
Encerrados  yacemos, 

E fasemos  noche  e dia 
E nos  a el  non  sabemos. 

A esta  luene  tierra 
Nunca  posimos  nombre, 

Si  verdat  es  o mentira, 
Della  mas  non  sabe  ome. 

E ningunt  sabidor 
Non  le  sopo  u ombre  cierto, 
Sy  non  que  obrador 
Es  de  su  cimiento. 

De  Dios  vida  al  Rey, 
Nuestro  mantenedor, 

Que  mantiene  la  ley 
E es  defendedor. 

Gentes  de  su  tierra 
Todas  a su  servicio 
Traiga,  e aparte  guerra 
Della,  mal  e bollicio. 

E la  mercet  que  el  noble 
Su  padre  prometio. 

La  terrna  como  cumple 
Al  Santob  el  Judio. 


Aqui  acaba  el  Rab  Don  Santob. 
Dios  sea  loado. 


In  all  three  of  the  inedited  poem  contained  in  this  Appen- 
dix, and  especially  in  that  of  the  Rabbi  Santob,  are  mistakes 
and  false  readings,  that  have  arisen  directly  from  the  imper- 
fections of  the  original  manuscripts.  Many  of  them  are  ob- 
vious, and  could  have  been  corrected  easily ; but  it  has  not 
seemed  to  me  that  a foreigner  should  ventm’e  into  a field  so 
peculiarly  national.  I have  confined  myself,  therefore,  to 
such  a punctuation  of  each  poem  as  would  make  it  more 
readily  intelligible,  — leaving  all  fm'ther  emendations,  and  all 
conjectiual  criticism  and  illustration,  to  the  native  scholars 
of  Spain.  To  them,  and  to  the  loyal  patriotism  for  which 


App.  H.] 


INEDITA. 


503 


they  have  always  been  distinguished,  I earnestly  commend 
the  agreeable  duty  of  editing,  not  only  what  is  here  published 
for  the  fii’st  time,  but  the  “ Rhymed  Chronicle  of  Fernan  Gon- 
zalez,” the  “ Rimado  de  Palacio  ” of  the  great  Chancellor 
Ayala,  the  “ Aviso  para  Cuerdos  ” of  Diego  Lopez  de  Haro, 
the  works  of  Juan  Alvarez  Gato,  and  other  similar  monu- 
ments of  their  early  literature,  of  which  I have  ah’eady  spoken, 
but  wMch,  existing  sometimes,  like  the  “ Poema  de  Jose,” 
only  in  a single  manuscript,  and  rarely  in  more  than  two  or 
three,  may  easily  be  lost  for  ever  by  any  one  of  the  many 
accidents  that  constantly  endanger  the  existence  of  all  such 
literary  treasm’es. 


:H  iit. 


1- 


-h 


- / 

I , * 


* * ' i»/  i «\^  • . . ■ /i  ♦n  ' 

‘I  i<i  I- ' 

- r ...•■>;!  i '*■" 

^ > ■ ( < r 

' . . !;)'•  Alft^  A.i 

I , . V 

»4*f  i . .- 

^ ! 't  «lfe>bBoi» . 


r' 


t 


INDEX. 


VOL.  III. 


64 


QQ 


r. 


: X i A A 1 ' 

— v 


A 

a I .ao'*- 


I 


'-■1 


INDEX 


The  Roman  numerals  refer  to  the  volume,  and  the  Arabic  figures  to  the  page  ; d.  means 
died;  f,  flourished;  notes;  and  c.,  for  circa,  signifies  that  the  year  indicated  is  uncertain. 


A. 

Aarsens  de  Somerdyck,  Travels,  II. 
34.5. 

Abarbanel,  by  the  Inca  Garcilasso,  III. 
156. 

Abderrahman  of  Cordova,  III.  375. 
Abril,  Simon,  translations,  II.  30. 
Academia  de  Barcelona,  III.  224. 
Academia  de  Bucn  Gusto,  III.  251. 
Academia  de  la  Lengua  Espanola, 
founded,  III.  216.  Its  Dictionary, 
217.  Abridgment  of  it,  220.  Its  or- 
thography, 220.  Its  Grammar,  221. 
Its  other  labors,  223,  III.  418. 
Academia  de  los  Hocturnos,  II.  283 
and  n. 

Academia  Real  de  la  Ilistoria,  I.  47,  49, 
n.,  III.  224. 

Academias,  after  the  Italian  fashion, 
III.  223. 

Academias  of  Polo,  III.  106,  n. 

Acosta,  Christoval  de,  f.  1578.  Ilis 
works.  III.  175. 

Actors,  kinds  of,  II.  .332,  n.  Improvi- 
sated  sometimes,  253,  n.  Condition 
and  numbers,  433.  The  more  dis- 
tinguished, 434.  III.  340.  Paid  daily, 

II.  4.36,  n. 

Actresses,  perform  men’s  parts,  II.  435,  n. 
Acuna,  Fernando  de,  d.  1580.  Life  and 
works,  I.  497  - 500.  On  Universal 
Empire,  459,  n.  Blank  verse  of, 
481,  n.  Poems,  with  Silvestre’s,  506. 
Addison,  J.,  dedication  of  his  Works,  II. 
99. 

Adenes,  Ogier  le  Danois,  I.  219.  Cleo- 
mades,  245,  n. 

Adorno,  Espinel,  f 1620.  Premio  de 
la  Constancia,  III.  51. 

Adrien,  Cardinal,  Grand  Inquisitor  and 
Pope,  I.  464. 

Advenant,  Maria  L’,  actress.  III.  .340. 
Agreda  y Vargas,  Diego  de,  f.  1620. 
Tales.  III.  102. 

Agnas  Santas,  Nuestra  Seiiora  de,  by 
Diaz,  II.  474. 

Aeudeza  y Arte  de  Ingcnio  of  Gracian, 

III.  192. 


Aguiar,  Diego  de,  f.  1621.  Tercetos  en 
Latin  Congruo,  III.  385,  n. 

Aguilar,  Alonzo  de,  in  Hita’s  Guerras 
Civiles,  III.  81.  In  Mendoza,  I.  524. 
Aguilar,  Gaspar  de,  dramatist,  f.  1623, 
II.  280-283.  Friend  of  Lope,  II. 
128. 

Aguilar,  Juan  Bautista,  poet,  f.  1680, 
II.  550,  n. 

Agustin,  Antonio,  f.  1560.  Letters,  III. 
129. 

Aimeric  de  Bellinoi,  Troubadour,  I. 
44,  n. 

Aimeric  de  Peguilan,  Troubadour,  1. 31 1. 
Alarcon,  Ruiz  de,  d.  1639.  Dramas,  II. 
319-32.3. 

Alarcos,  Count,  ballad  on,  I.  127.  Dra- 
mas on,  127,  n- 

Albigenses,  war  of,  1.  312  and  n.  Poem 
on,  313  and  n. 

Albornoz,  Carillo  de,  f.  1364, 1.  348. 
Alcahuetas,  what,  I.  80,  n. 

Alcahi,  University  of,  I.  473. 

Alcala,  Gcronymo  de.  See  Yanez. 
Alcala  y Herrera,  Alonso  de,  f.  1641. 
Tales,  III.  109  and 

Alcalde  de  Zalamea,  by  Calderon,  II. 

212,  n.,  .367,  n.,  389,  n. 

Alcazar,  Baltazar  de,  d.  1606.  Poet,  II. 
533  and  n. 

Alciatus,  Emblemata,  III.  22. 

Aldana,  Cosme  de,  f.  1586,  II.  487, 
488,  n. 

Aldana,  Francisco  de,  d.  1590.  Didactic 
poetry.  III.  19. 

Aldeanos  Criticos  of  Isla,  III.  266,  n. 
Alderete,  Pablo,  edits  part  of  Quevedo’s 
works,  II.  260. 

Aldi,  pati'onized  by  Diego  de  Mendoza, 
I.  514. 

Alegoria,  La,  of  Boscan,  I.  484. 

Alegria  Comica  of  Castro,  III.  316,  n. 
Aleman,  Mateo,  f.  1609,  III.  59.  Letter 
to  Cervantes,  59,  n.  Guzman  de  Al- 
farache,  60.  Ortografia,  188,  220, 
221,  n.  San  Antonio  de  Padua,  221,  n. 
Alexander  the  Great,  Lorenzo  Segura’s 
poem  on,  156.  A favorite  subject  of 
verse,  58. 


508 


INDEX. 


Alexandra  of  Lupercio  Leon  de  Ar- 
gensola,  II.  33. 

Alfarache.  See  Guzman  de. 

Alfonso,  6 Fundacion  de  Portugal,  III. 
225. 

Alfonso  ii.  of  Aragon,  d.  119G,  I.  311. 

Alfonso  ill.  of  Aragon,  d.  1291,  I.  322. 

Alfonso  iv.  of  Aragon,  d.  1336,  I.  323. 

Alfonso  V.  of  Aragon,  d.  1458,  I.  329, 
3.34,  350. 

Alfonso  vii.  of  Castile,  Fueros  de  Aviles, 
III.  382. 

Alfonso  viii.  of  Castile,  in  Lope  de 
Vega’s  Jerusalem,  II.  143  and  144,  n. 

Alfonso  ix.  of  Castile,  d.  1214.  Con- 
nected -with  Proven<;al  poets,  I.  324. 

Alfonso  X.  of  Castile,  cl  Sabio,  or  the 
Wise,  d.  1284, 1.  35.  Connected  tvith 
the  Troubadours,  35,  n.,  324.  Life  of, 
35  - 38.  Letter  to  Alonso  Perez  de 
Guzman,  36  - 38.  List  of  bis  works, 
39,  n.  His  Cantigas,  39,  42.  His 
Qucrcllas,  44.  His  Tesoro,  44.  His 
translation  of  the  Bible,  45.  His  Ul- 
tramar, 45.  The  Fuero  Juzgo,  47. 
Espejo,  49.  Fuero  Ecal,  49.  Sietc 
Partidas,  49.  Opusculos  Legales,  49,  n. 
The  Chronica  General,  158.  Ballad 
on.  III.  28.  Arabic  schools  of,  379. 
Influence  on  the  Spanish  language, 
387.  Establishes  the  Castilian,  1.  551 
and  n. 

Alfonso  xi.  of  Castile,  d.  1350.  His 
Monteria,  I.  76.  Poetical  chronicle  of 
his  reign,  77,  78,  n.  Enforces  the  Par- 
tidas, 50. 

Alfonso  el  Sabio,  or  the  Wise.  See 
A Ifonso  X. 

Algiers,  Cervantes’s  captivity  in,  II.  57. 
Account  of,  by  Haedo,  58,  59,  n.  Slav- 
ery in,  influences  Spanish  Action,  HI. 
39,  79  ; and  drama,  II.  419,  n. 

Aliaga,  Luis  de,  supposed  to  be  Avclla- 
neda,  II.  110. 

Alivios  de  Cassandra  of  Castillo  Solor- 
zano.  III.  108. 

Almela,  Diego  de,  f 1472.  Valerio  de 
las  Historias,  1.  418. 

Alonso,  Agustin,  f 1585,  II.  477. 

Alonso,  Mozo  de  Muchos  Amos,  of  Ya- 
iiez  y Kivera,  III.  71. 

Alphonsus,  Petrus,  f.  1106, 1.  70,  n. 

Alromi,  who.  III.  384. 

Altamira,  Pedro  de,  dramatist,  H.  5. 

Altamira,  Viscount,  I.  435,  436. 

Alva,  Antonio,  Duke  of,  patron  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  H.  124,  125  and  n. 

Alva,  Fernando,  Duke  of,  and  the  In- 
quisition, I.  467.  Taught  by  Boscan, 
480.  Not  in  Lope’s  Arcadia,  II.  124. 
Causes  Luis  de  Granada’s  works  to 
be  printed,  IH.  178,  n. 

Alvares,  Joam,  Chronicle,  II.  377. 

Alvarez  y Baena.  See  Baena. 


Alvaro  de  Luna.  See  Luna. 

Alvarus  Cordubensis,  IH.  378. 

Amadis  de  Gaula,  1.  221.  Portuguese 
original  lost,  22.3.  Spanish  by  Mon- 
talvo, 223.  Its  great  success,  224.  Its 
character,  225-230.  The  romances 
of  the  family  of  Amadis,  231  -234. 
Admired  by  Tasso,  230,  n. ; by  Diego 
de  Mendoza,  514. 

Amadis  de  Gaula,  a play  of  Vicente, 

H.  4. 

Amadis  of  Greece,  romance  of  chivalry, 

I.  233. 

Amador  de  los  Eios,  translation  of  Sis- 
mondi  on  Spanish  Literature,  I.  34,  n. 
His  Judios  de  Espana,  88,  n. 

Amantc  Generoso  of  Cervantes,  H.  86. 
Amantes  de  Teruel  of  Montalvan,  II. 
301  - 304  ; of  Tirso  de  Molina,  302,  n. ; 
of  Artieda,  ib.  See  Salas. 

Amar  despues  de  la  Muerte  of  Calde- 
ron, II.  360,  364. 

Amar  y Borbon,  Maria,  III.  430. 
Amarilis  of  Figueroa,  III.  51. 

Amat,  Felix  Torres  de,  Autores  Cata- 
lanes,  I.  310,  n. 

Amaya,  Juan  Ifrancisco  de,  on  Gongora, 
II.  526. 

America,  early  accounts  of,  I.  556.  Po- 
ems on,  II.  467. 

American  Indian  words  in  Spanish,  I. 
548. 

Amescua.  See  Mira  de  Mesciia. 

Amigo  Amante  y Leal  of  Calderon,  II. 
360. 

Amirola,  Eugenio  de  Llaguno,  editor  of 
different  books,  I.  197,  n.,  395,  401,  «., 
HI.  398. 

Amor  Enamorado  of  Villalpando,  II. 
483. 

Amphiyso,  poetical  name  of  Antonio, 
Duke  of  Alva,  II.  128,  n. 

Amphytrion  of  Plautus,  by  Villalobos,  I. 
533. 

Anacreon  by  Quevedo,  II.  275,  n.  Imi- 
tated by  Villegas,  II.  543. 

Anaxarete  of  Gallegos,  II.  541,  n. 
Anaxartes,  romance  of  chivalry,  1.  233. 
Ancient  manners  and  modem  confound- 
ed, I.  56. 

Ancient  measures  imitated  in  Spanish, 
II.  543. 

Andrada,  Pedro  Fem.  de,  f.  1599.  Libro 
de  la  Gineta,  IH.  188. 

Andres,  Giovanni,  on  the  origin  of 
modem  poetry,  IH.  374.  0n  Cultis- 
mo,  428. 

Andromeda,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  155. 
Anelier,  Guillaume,  Troubadour,  I.  314. 
Angelica,  Hermosura  de,  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  II.  130,  137  -139. 

Angelica.  See  Lagrinias  de  Angelica. 
Anonymous  poetry  of  the  earliest  age, 
I.  27. 


INDEX. 


509 


Aiiorbe,  Thomas  de,  f.  1740.  Dramas, 
III.  316  and  n. 

Antenor,  El,  of  Montengon,  III.  283,  n. 

vVntes  qiie  todo  es  mi  Dama  of  Calde- 
ron, II.  360,  382. 

Antillon,  Isidro,  on  the  Amantes  of  Te- 
ruel,  II.  485,  n. 

Antonio,  Nicolas,  d.  1684.  Notice  of, 
and  of  his  works,  I.  239.  Historias 
Eabulosas,  III.  15.3,  n.  Letters,  136. 

Antonio  de  Padua,  San,  by  Aleman,  III. 
221,  n. 

Antrnejo  of  Enzina,  I.  279  and  n. 

Anzarena,  Clu'istdval,  his  Don  Quixote, 
III.  421. 

Anzuelo  de  Fenisa,  El,  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  190. 

Apollonius,  Book  of,  13th  cent.,  1.  24. 
Tale  of,  by  Timoneda,  III.  97,  n. 

Apolo  y Clymene  of  Calderon,  II.  389. 

Apontes,  edition  of  Calderon’s  Come- 
dias,  II.  343. 

-Vposentos,  what,  II.  438,  439,  )?.,  III. 
315. 

Arabic  characters  used  in  Spanish  man- 
uscripts, I.  95  and  n.,  III.  201,  n. 

Arabic  language,  prevalence  of,  in  Spain, 

III.  377  -379.  Infusion  into  the  mod- 
ern Spanish,  380. 

Arabs,  invasion  of  Spain,  III.  373.  Glo- 
ry of  their  empire,  374.  Influence  on 
modern  cultivation,  374.  On  Chris- 
tian Spanish  culture,  375.  Christians 
live  among  them,  376  and  n.  Mu- 
carabes,  377  and  n. 

Aragon,  History  of,  by  Zurita,  III.  139 ; 
by  Argensola,  140,  n. 

Aragones,  Juan,  aneedotes  by.  III.  97,  n. 

Aranda,  Luis  de,  Commentary  on  Man- 
rique,  I.  409. 

Aranda,  patronage  of  the  drama.  III. 
320,  n. 

Aranjuez,  revolution  begins  at,  III.  345. 

Araucana  of  Ercilla,  II.  461.  Continued 
by  Osorio,  464.  Translations  from, 
by  Hayley,  464,  n. 

Arauco  Domado  of  Oua,  11.  466. 

Arauco  Domado  of  Lope  de  Vega,  1. 
510,  n.,  11.  207,  H.,  466,  n. 

Arcadia,  Bachiller  del,  pseudonyme  of 
Diego  de  Mendoza,  I.  519,  n. 

Arcadia,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  125, 
III.  49.  Eclogue  in,  II.  168.  Tales 
in.  III.  117. 

Arcadia,  La,  of  Sannazaro,  II.  126. 

Archives  de  las  Indias  at  Seville,  II. 
79. 

Arellano,  Luis  de,  f.  1634.  Avisos  para 
la  Muerte,  II.  341,  n.,  III.  32. 

Argamasilla  in  La  Mancha,  II.  80. 

Argensolas,  brothers,  II.  536  - 539.  Their 
satires.  III.  5.  Elegies,  9.  Epigrams, 
15.  Didactic  poetry,  19. 

Argensola,  Bartolome  Leonardo,  d.  1631, 


II.  537  - 539.  Ile.sists  the  old  drama, 
328.  His  letters.  III.  136.  His  Anales 
de  Aragon,  140,  n.  Conquista  de  las 
Malucas,  155. 

Argensola,  Lupercio  Leonardo,  d.  1613, 
II.  536  - 539.  His  three  di’amas,  32  - 
34.  Eesists  the  old  drama,  330. 
Argentina,  La,  of  Centenera,  II.  469. 
Argote  de  Molina.  See  Molina. 
A-guijo,  Juan  de,  f.  1605,  II.  534.  Po- 
etical Epistles,  III.  6. 

A'iosto,  his  Negromante,  II.  21.  See 
Urrea ; Bolea ; Villena,  Garrido  de ; 
Alonso,  Agustin. 

Aristophanes,  II.  12,  n.,  92,  n. 

Aristotle’s  Poetica,  translated  by  the 
Prince  of  Viana,  III.  168,  n. 

Annada,  Lope  de  Vega  serves  in  the,  II. 

129,  130.  Gongora’s  Ode  to,  523. 
Armas  de  la  Hermosura,  play  of  Calde- 
ron, H.  361,  n.,  390. 

Arnalto  y Lucenda,  I.  426,  n. 

Ai-naud  Plagn6s,  Troubadour,  I.  314. 
Arredondo,  Gonzalo  de,  f.  1522,  II.  457,  n. 
Arrieta,  Esplritu  de  Cervantes,  II.  88,  n. 
Arroyal,  Leon  de,  f.  1784.  Odas,  III. 
283,  n. 

Arteaga,  Steflmo,  Teatro  Mnsicale,  II. 

426,  n.,  III.  429. 

Arteaga.  ' See  Paravicino. 

Arte  Cisoria  of  Villena,  I.  360. 

Arte  de  la  Pintura  of  Cespedes,  III. 

21. 

Arte  Nueva  de  hacer  Comedias  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  II.  166. 

Arte  Poetica  of  Rengifo,  III.  236. 

Arte  de  Trobar  of  Villena,  I.  361. 
Artemidoro,  pseudonyme.  See  Artieda. 
Artes,  poet,  I.  442,  n. 

Artes  y Munoz,  Rodrigo,  poet,  f.  1680, 
II.  550,  n. 

Arthur  and  his  Round  Table,  I.  219. 
Artieda,  Andres  Rey  de,  opposes  the  old 
drama,  II.  328.  IDs  Amantes,  302,  n. 
His  didactic  poetry,  HI.  19.  See  Rey. 
Artiga,  Fran.  Joseph,  f.  1725.  Eloquen- 
cia  Espanola,  III.  237. 

Ascetic  writers,  HI.  176. 

Aschbach,  Jos.,  1.  170,  n. 

Asneida  of  Aldana,  II.  487. 

Asonante,  what,  I.  112.  Character  of, 

113.  Great  popularity,  115.  English, 

114,  n. 

Astarloa,  Apologia,  III.  357,  n. 

Astorga,  Marquis  of,  I.  435. 

Astrologo  Fingido  of  Calderon,  II.  342, 
382. 

Astronomical  Tables  of  Alfonso  the 
Wise,  1.  39,  n. 

Astry,  Sir  J.,  translation  of  Faxai’do,  III. 
185,  n. 

Atalanta  y Hipomenes  of  Moncayo,  II. 
483  and  n. 

Athaulpho  of  Montiano,  HI.  317. 

QQ* 


510 


INDEX. 


Athen®uin,  Boston,  III.  266,  n. 

Atila  Eurioso  of  Vimes,  II.  29. 

Audiences  of  the  theatre  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  II.  437  - 440.  In  the 
eighteenth.  III.  325,  341. 

Aula  de  Dios  of  Dicastillo,  III.  23. 

Aulnoy,  Mad.  la  Comtesse  de.  Travels  in 
Spain,  II.  352,  n.,  437,  n. 

Aurelia  of  Timoneda,  II.  20. 

Aurclio  y Isabela  of  Flos’cs,  III.  77. 

Aurora  cn  Copacobana  of  Calderon,  II. 
358,  359. 

Auroras  de  Diana  of  Castro  y Anaya, 
III.  107. 

Austriada  of  Rufo,  II.  493,  494,  n. 

Authors,  relations  of,  to  the  Inquisition,  I. 
451,  461,  462,  n.,  466,  469. 

Auto,  ivhat,  I.  275,  n.,  II.  227,  7>. 

All  tor,  what,  II.  43 1 . Ridiculed  in  plays, 
431,  n. 

Autora,  what,  II.  431,  n. 

Autos  da  Ed,  first,  1. 448.  Of  Pi'Otestants, 

465.  Popular,  III.  205, 206.  Refused 
as  a compliment  by  Philip  v.,  246. 
Autos  of  his  time,  248.  Last,  257. 

Autos  Sacramentales,  what,  II.  226. 
Antiquity  and  popularity,  227.  Lope 
de  Vega’s,  229  - 234.  Manuscrijit  col- 
lection of,  230  and  n.  Of  Montalvan, 
305.  Of  Tirso  de  Molina,  314.  0/ 
Valdivielso,  317.  Of  Calderon,  .344 - 
351.  His  last  work,  339.  Of  Roxas, 
408,  n.  Prohibited,  but  not  entirely 
suppressed,  II.  351,  III.  324.  See 
Farsas  del  Sacramento. 

Avellaneda,  Alonso  Eernando  de,  pscu- 
donyme,  attack  on  Cervantes,  II.  80,  n. 
Ilis  Second  Part  of  Don  Quixote,  109 
-113.  Cerv'aiites’srepl3'to, 111.  Trans- 
lated by  Le  Sage,  III.  269.  See  Ali- 
arja  ; Blanco  de  Paz ; Sage,  Le. 

Avellaneda,  Thomas  de,  f.  1665,  defends 
the  drama,  II.  394,  n. 

Avila,  a poet,  I.  442,  n. 

Avila,  Erancisco  de,  play  on  Don  Quix- 
ote, III.  421. 

Avila,  Gaspar  de,  his  Govemador  Pru- 
dente,  I.  510,  n.,  II.  466,  n. 

Avila,  Juan  de,  d.  1569.  Persecuted,  I. 

466.  His  Cartas  Espiritiiales,  540  and 
n.,  III.  129. 

Avila  y Heredia,  Andres  de,  defends  the 
theatre,  II.  352,  n. 

Avila  y Zuniga,  Luis  de,  f.  1555.  Gue- 
ira  de  Alemana,  III.  142,  n. 

Aviles,  Eueros  de,  I.  11,  47,  n.,  HI.  382, 
383  and  n. 

Avisos  para  la  Muerte,  por  Luis  de  Are- 
llano, 11.  341,  n.,  III.  32. 

Ayala,  Inigo  Lopez  de,  f.  1775.  Life  of 
Mendoza,  1.  509,  n.  His  Numancia, 
III.  321. 

Ayala,  Pedro  Lopez  de,  d.  1407.  His 
Rimado  de  Palacio,  I.  100.  His 


Chronicles,  177  - 183.  Other  works, 
179.  Character,  180.  Reads  Amadis, 
221.  Knows  Italian  literature,  351. 

Ay  lion,  a poet,  I.  442,  n. 

Ayllon,  Diego  Ximeuez,  f.  1579.  Poem 
on  the  Cid,  II.  457. 

Azara,  Joseph  Nicolas,  Edition  of  Garci- 
lasso,  I.  494,  n. 

Azemar  le  Noir,  Troubadour,  I.  313. 

Azero  de  Madrid,  El,  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
II.  181-184. 

Azevedo,  Alonso  de,  f 1615,  II.  474. 

Azote  de  su  Patria,  by  Moreto,  II.  419,  n. 


B. 

Bacallar  y Sauna,  Marques  de  San 
Phelipe,  See  Phclipe. 

Bachillcr  de  Salamanca,  III.  268,  n. 

Badajoz,  Gat’d  Sanchez  de,  I.  436,  442,  n. 

Baena,  Jos.  Ant.  Alvarez  y,  his  Hijos 
de  Madrid,  I.  205,  n. 

Baena,  Juan  Alfonso  de,  f.  1454.  Poet, 
I.  394.  His  Cancionero,  428. 

Balboa,  the  discoverer,  I.  211. 

Balbuena,  Bernardo  de,  d.  1627.  Hi.s 
Siglo  de  Oro,  III.  49.  Gains  a prize 
in  Mexico,  II.  151,  a.  His  Bernardo, 
479.  Lyric  poetrv,  544.  Eclogues. 
III.  12. 

Baldovinos  of  Cancer,  II.  487. 

Ballads,  English  and  Scotch,  I.  153. 

Ballads,  national,  origin  of,  1. 108.  Eorm 
of.  111.  Measure  of.  111,  ti.  Many 
taken  from  old  chronicles,  113,  n. 
Their  name  Romances,  115.  Early 
notices  of,  115-118.  Lope  do  Vega’s 
opinion  of  their  measure,  1 1 5,  a.  Long 
unwritten,  119.  Some  in  the  oldest 
Cancioneros  Generates,  120-125,438. 
Multitudes  in  the  Romanceros,  125- 
129.  Connection  with  the  old  Chroni- 
cles, 127.  Not  to  be  arranged  by  the 
dates  of  their  composition,  129.  Pour 
classes  of: — i.  Ballads  of  Chivah-^q  131. 
Charlemagne,  132.  The  Paladins,  132. 
Their  great  popularity  134.  ii.  Histori- 
cal Ballads,  important,  134.  Bernardo 
del  Caiqiio,  135.  Eeman  Gonzalez,  138. 
Infantes  de  Lara,  139.  The  Cid,  140. 
iii.  Ballads  on  Moorish  subjects,  146. 
Excess  of,  147  and  n.  iv.  Ballads  on 
Manners,  148  - 152.  General  character 
of  Spanish  ballads,  153.  Their  nation- 
ality, 154.  Much  cultivated.  III.  25. 
By  Sepulveda,  26.  Euentes,  27.  Ti- 
moneda, 29.  Padilla,  30.  Cueva,  31. 
Ilita,  31.  Hidalgo,  32.  Valdivielso, 
32.  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  127,  n.,  129, «., 
150,  n.,  225,  247,  HI.  32  - 36.  Ai’ella- 
110, 32.  Roca y Serna,  Esquilache,  Men- 
doza, Quevedo,  33.  Silvestre,  Monte- 
mayor,  Espinel,  CastUlejo,  Maldonado, 


INDEX. 


511 


Gongora.  Arteaga,  Pantaleon,  Villa- 
mediana,  Coronel,  35.  Cervantes,  II. 
89,  n..  III.  36.  Ferreira,  Ecbolledo, 
Solis,  Alarcon,  La  Chica,  36.  Great 
number  of  ballads  and  their  great 
popularity,  35  - 37.  Ballads  by  Jove- 
llanos,  299.  By  Moratin,  307.  Col- 
lections of,  388  -396.  A good  collec- 
tion still  tvanted,  396.  Ballads  used 
by  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  193,  n.,  206,  n., 
233  and  re.,  235,  re.,  247,  248  and  re. 
By  Guillen  de  Castro,  292,  293.  By 
Valdivielso,  318.  Parodied  on  the 
stage,  442,  443,  487,  re.  Ballad  meas- 
ure used  in  the  old  drama,  1.  115. 
Ballads  used  by  Lope  de  Vega  in  his 
plays,  n.  247,  248.  By  Montalvan, 
306,  re.  Ballads  connected  with  the 
old  chronicles,  1.  137,  III.  26.  Their 
loyal  spirit,  I.  145. 

.Baltasar,  Prince,  II.  383,  re.,  395,  re. 
Baltasara,  Francisca,  actress  and  hermit, 

II.  435. 

Balvas,  Antonio,  poet,  d.  1629,  II.  534. 
Eclogues,  III.  13. 

Bamba,  play  on,  by  Lope  de  V ega,  II.  206'. 
Banda.  See  Vanda. 

Bandoleros,  what,  I.  336. 

Bandos,  what,  I.  200. 

Bank  of  Exchange,  first,  I.  349. 

Baiios  de  Ai-gel  of  Cervantes,  II.  91,  re. 
Barahona  de  Soto,  Luis.  See  Soto. 
Barba,  what,  II.  240. 

Barbadillo.  See  Sahs  BarhadWo. 
Barbara,  Santa,  of  Guillen  de  Castro,  II. 
286. 

Barbosa,  Arias,  I.  473. 

Barbosa,  Diogo,  his  Bibliotheca  Lusitana, 

III.  163,  re. 

Barcclo,  Juan,  poet,  f.  1680,  11.  550,  re. 
Barcelona,  Provemjal  hterature  in,  I.  308. 
Taken  from  the  Moors,  309,  re.  Con- 
sistory of  Poets  at,  329.  Influence  of, 
349.  See  Capmamj. 

Barcia,  d.  1740.  His  Historiadores,  I. 
557,  re. 

Bamuevo,  Pedro  de  Peralta,  f.  1732. 

His  Lima  Fundada,  III.  226. 
Bamuevo.  See  Mosquera. 

Baron,  El,  of  IMoratin,  III.  337. 

Barctti.  J.,  publishes  Friar  Gerund,  HI. 
264. 

Barreto,  J.  V.,  and  Montcho,  J.  G.,  edi- 
tion of  Gil  Aricente,  I.  284,  re. 
Barrientos,  Lope  de,  d.  1469,  1.  359,  re., 
III.  400. 

Barrios,  Miguel  de,  f.  1690.  Duels  in 
his  plays,  11. 393.  Dramas,  415.  LjtI- 
cal  poetry,  549.  Eclogues,  III.  13. 
Basque  language.  III.  357.  Unchanged, 

I.  550.  See  Biscayans. 

Bastida,  Mateo  de  la.  Collection  of 
Plays,  III.  426. 

Batalla  Naval  of  Cervantes,  II.  90,  re. 


Bautismo  del  Principe  de  Jlarruecos  of 
Lope  de  Vega,  II.  223. 

Bayer,  Perez,  editor  of  Antonio’s  Biblio- 
theca Vetus,  I.  239,  III.  249. 

Bayle,  what,  II.  447,  re.  Enriemesado, 
lb. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  III.  65. 
Belando,  persecuted.  III.  248. 

Belardo,  poetical  name  of  Lope  de  Ve- 
ga, II.  128,  re. 

Belerma,  ballad  on,  1.  133,  re. 

Belianis  of  Greece,  romance  of  chivalrv, 

I.  241., 

Belisa,  anagram  of  Isabela,  wife  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  II.  129,  re. 

Bello,  Don  Andres,  on  the  Asonante,  1. 
112,  re. 

Belmonte,  Luis,  11.  323,  327.  Play  on 
the  Marquis  of  Cariete,  466,  re.  In 
the  Comedias  Escogidas,  III.  425. 
Bembo,  his  Eclogues,  III.  40. 
Benamarin,  African  princes,  1.  37,  re. 
Benavente.  Luis  Quinones  de,  Loas.  IT. 
442. 

Benedictina,  La,  of  Bravo,  H.  472. 
Benegasi  y Luxan,  J.  J.,  f.  1743.  Poems. 
Ili:  227. 

Berceo,  Gonzalo  de,  f.  1220-1246.  Life 
and  works,  I.  28-32.  His  metrical 
form,  29,  re. ; and  sweet  versification, 
30,  re. 

Bermudez,  Geronimo,  f.  1589.  Dramas, 

II.  31,  34. 

Bermudez  de  Castro,  on  Antonio  Perez, 

III.  134,  re. 

Bemaldez,  Andres,  El  Cura  de  los  Pa- 
lacios, f.  1513, 1.  188. 

Bernard  de  Eovenac,  Troubadour,  I. 
315. 

Bernardo  del  Caiqiio,  ballads  on,  I.  135 
Often  taken  from  the  chronicles,  137. 
Story  in  Cronica  General,  163,  re.,  164 
-166.  Plays  on,  II.  206.  Poem  of 
Balbuena,  479.  See  Ronccsvalles ; Ha- 
zanas. 

Berriozabal,  Juan  Manuel  de,  rifacimen- 
to  of  the  Christiada,  II.  474,  re. 
Bertueh,  translation  of  Lope’s  Gatoma- 
chia,  II.  155.  Notice  of,  269,  re. 
B6tica,  La,  of  Cueva,  II,  497. 

Bettinelli,  Saverio,  on  Cultismo,  III. 
427,  4.30. 

Beuve,  Sainte,  Critiques,  II.  102,  re. 
Bible,  translated  into  Castilian,  by  order 
of  Alfonso  the  Wise,  1.  39,  re.,  45.  In 
Provencal,  322.  In  Catalan,  345,  re. 
In  Arabic,  III.  378,  re. 

Biblioteca.  See  Antonio  ; Barbosa ; Cas- 
tro; Faster;  Rodriguez;  Ximeno. 
Bidpai,  1.  70,  re. 

Bicdermann,  F.  B.  F.,  on  Don  Quixote, 
III.  419. 

Bisbe  y Vidal,  pseudonyme,  Tratado  de 
Comedias,  11.  217,  re." 


512 


INDEX. 


Biscay,  not  conquered  by  the  Komans, 
III.  365. 

Biscayan  mountains,  refuge  of  Spanish 
Christians  from  the  Moors,  I.  7. 
Biscayans,  their  character  and  language, 

, III.  356. 

Blakeston,  James,  translation  of  Laza- 
rillo,  I.  512. 

Blanche  of  Bourbon,  Ayala’s  account  of, 

I.  181.  Ballads  on,  L 182,  n. 

Blanco  de  Paz,  supposed  to  be  Avella- 

neda,  II.  110. 

Blank  verse  of  Boscan,  I.  480.  Notice 
of  Spanish,  481,  n.  Of  Garcilas.so,  490. 
Blasco,  Fran.  Hcrnan.,  f.  1590,  II.  470. 

Glossary  by,  III.  217. 

Blind  Beggars,  a Paso  of  Tiraoneda,  II. 

22. 

Boba  para  los  Otros  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  189. 

Bobo,  in  Autos,  II.  230,  a.,  244. 

Bobo,  Un,  liace  Ciento  of  Solis,  II.  420. 
Boccaccio,  known  in  Spain,  I.  180.  Imi- 
tated, III.  97.  His  Ameto,  III.  40. 
Bodas  de  Camacho  of  Melendez,  III. 
287,  321. 

Bo6thius,  translated  by  Villegas,  U. 
542. 

Boiardo.  See  Villena,  Alonso  Garrido  de. 
Bolca,  Josef  de,  a dramatist,  f.  1667,  11. 
396,  n. 

Bolea,  Martin  Abarca  de,  f.  1578,  11. 
477. 

Bologna,  University  of,  I.  348. 

Books,  forbidden,  I.  460.  Seized,  461. 

Effects  of  intolerance  on,  469. 
Booksellers,  defraud  dramatic  authors, 
II.  180,  n.,  300,  343. 

Borja  y Esquilache,  Prince  of.  See 
Esquilache. 

Boscan,  Juan,  f.  1540.  Life,  I.  477.  In- 
tercourse with  Navagiero,  478.  Schol- 
arship, 480.  Works,  482- 486.  De- 
serts the  Catalan,  341.  Translation 
of  Euripides,  II.  30,  n.  His  Leandro, 
481.  His  Satire,  HI.  3.  Pastoral 
verse,  10.  Eclogues,  13. 

Botelho  de  Cavalho,  Miguel,  f.  1622. 

Pastor  de  Clenarda,  HI.  51. 

Botelho  Moraes.  See  Moraes. 

Bouscal,  Guerin  de,  imitates  Spanish 
plays,  H.  285,  n. 

Bouterwek,  F.,  notice  of,  and  of  his  His- 
tory of  Spanish  Literature,  I.  33,  n. 
On  Don  Quixote,  II.  104,  n. 

Bowie,  Letter  to  Dr.  Percy,  H.  107.  On 
the  date  of  Cervantes’s  death,  77,  n. 
Edition  of  Don  Quixote,  IH.  418. 
Bravo,  Nicolas,  f.  1604,  H.  472. 

Breeches,  dialogue  on,  by  Lope  de  Kne- 
da,  II.  17.  Style  in  time  of  Philip 
ii.,  18,  n. 

Bremont,  translates  Guzman  de  Alfa- 
rache,  III.  65,  n. 


Breton  de  los  Herreros,  Satiras,  II. 
439,  n. 

Briant,  Sir  Francis,  translation  from 
Guevara,  I.  545,  n. 

Bristol,  Lord,  imitates  Calderon,  II.  381. 
Brocense,  El.  See  Sanchez. 

Bruce- Whyte,  I.  325. 

Buelna,  Conde  de.  See  Nino,  Pero. 
Bueltas,  what,  II.  547,  n. 

Buen  Placer  of  Mendoza,  IH.  18,  n. 
Buen  Ketiro,  auto  of  Calderon,  II.  396,  n. 
Bululu,  what,  II.  332,  n. 

Bull-fights  of  Moratin,  HI.  273. 

Bolow,  Edward,  Celestina  in  German, 
1.  272. 

Bunsen,  Chevalier,  IH.  358. 

Burgos,  Diego  de,  I.  410,  n. 

Burguillos,  Tome,  II.  152,  154,  155,  n. 
HI.  6. 

Burgundians  in  Provence,  I.  307,  308. 
Burlador  de  Sevilla,  play  of  Tirso  de 
Molina,  II.  309. 

Buscapie,  II.  105,  HI.  404  - 415. 
Bustamente,  edition  of  Gomara,  I.  558. 
Bustos,  Francisco  Gonzalez  de,  Espa- 
fioles  en  Chili,  H.  466,  n. 

Butler’s  Hudibras  and  Don  Quixote,  IH. 
421. 

Butrago,  Lord  of,  ballad  on,  I.  145. 
Button,  Father,  f.  1722.  Poem  on  Sta. 

Teresa,  HI.  227,  n. 

Byron,  Lord,  Don  Juan,  H.  310. 


C. 

Caballero  del  Febo,  romance  of  chivalry, 
H.  107,  n. 

Caballero,  Fermin,  Pericia  Geografica 
de  Cervantes,  II.  87,  n. 

Caballero  Perfeto  of  Salas  BarbadiUo, 
IH.  100. 

Caballero  Puntual  of  Salas  BarbadiUo, 
HI.  101. 

Caballero  Venturoso  of  Valladares,  HI 

88. 

Caballero  y Escudero,  Libro  del,  by  D. 
Juan  Manuel,  I.  65,  n.,  69. 

Caceres,  Francisco  de,  I.  418. 

Caceres,  Juan  Bautista  Felices  de,  f. 
1629,  II.  150,  n. 

Caceres,  Pedro  de,  I.  506. 

Cadahalso,  Jos6  de,  d.  1782.  Works, 
HI.  275.  Dramas,  320.  Translation 
of  Young,  320,  n.  Influence  on  Me- 
lendez, 28^ 

Cadiz  founded,  HI.  360.  Wealth  and 
power,  362. 

Caida  de  Luzbel  of  Melendez,  HI.  289 ; 
of  Valderrabano,  290,  n. 

Calatayud,  Father,  denounces  the  thea- 
tre, HI.  342. 

Calavcra,  I.  394. 

Calaynos,  ballad,  I.  133. 


INDEX. 


513 


Calderon  de  la  Barca,  Pedro  de,  d.  1681. 
Birth,  II.  333.  Name, 333,?!.  Education, 
3.34.  Pestivals  of  San  Isidro,  151, 153, 
335.  A soldier,  336.  Patronized  by 
Philip  iv.,  336.  Serves  in  Catalonia, 
337.  King’s  marriage,  337.  Kelig- 
ious  brotlierhood,  337.  Royal  chap- 
lain, 338.  His  death,  339.  Monu- 
ment, 339.  Personal  appearance  and 
character,  340.  His  works,  II.  340  - 
343  and  n.  Dramas  falsely  attributed 
to  him,  342,  III.  425.  List  of  his 
plays,  II.  343.  His  losses  by  piracy, 
343.  His  Religious  Dramas,  351. 
His  Secular  Dramas,  360.  Character- 
istics, 361,  388.  Carelessness  of  his- 
torical truth,  362.  Comedias  de  Capa 
y Espada,  381.  Sources  of  his  stories, 
390.  Immorality,  391.  Ideas  of  hon- 
or, 392.  Duels,  393.  Notices  of  pass- 
ing events,  and  flattery,  395.  His  style 
and  versification,  396.  Long  success, 
398.  What  he  did  for  the  theatre,  399. 
Character  of  his  dramas,  400  - 402. 
Dramas  sung,  II.  424.  His  Alcalde 
de  Zalamea,  57,  n.  Amar  despues  de 
la  Muerte,  II.  364,  III.  83.  Autos 
flatter  Charles  ii..  III.  209.  Medico 
de  su  Honra,  I.  183,  n.  Share  in 
Pastor  Eido,  HI.  50,  n.  His  school,  II. 
403-429.  Lost  play  on  Don  Quix- 
ote, III.  421.  Plays  in  Comedias 
Escogidas,  424,  425. 

Calderon.  See  Apontes;  Bristol,  Lord; 
Corneille,  T.;  Drijden;  Goethe;  Gozzi ; 
Hauteroche;  Keil;  Lara;  Malsburg ; 
Panzano;  Rosenhranz;  Schlegel,  A.  TF.; 
Schmidt,  F.  W.v.;  Tuhe;  Vera  Tas- 
sis. 

Calderon,  Maria,  actress,  II.  434. 

Calderon,  Rodrigo,  II.  486. 

Calisto  y Meliboea.  See  Celestina,  La. 

Calvo.  Sebastian  de  Nieva,  f.  1625,  II. 
474.  - 

Calzada,  Bern.  Maria  de,  f.  1792.  Gil 
Bias,  HI.  267,  n. 

Calzas.  See  Breeches. 

Camargo,  Hernando  Dominguez,  f.  1666. 
His  Loyola,  II.  474. 

Camargo,  Ignacio,  assails  the  drama,  II. 
352,  n. 

Camerino,  Joseph,  f.  1623.  Tales,  III. 
103. 

Caraino  de  Perfeccion  of  Sta.  Teresa,  III. 
178. 

Camoens,  epigrammatic  poetiy,  III.  15. 
Ballad,  36,  n. 

Campeador,  the  Cid,  1.  14. 

Campillo  de  Bayle,  Gines,  f.  1689. 
Tales,  III.  106,  n. 

Campomanes,  Life  of  Feyjoo,  III.  245, 
n. 

Campo  Raso,  Joseph  del.  Continuation 
of  San  Phelipe,  III.  232,  n. 

VOL.  HI. 


Campo-redondo,  Calisto  Fernandez, 
poem,  III.  160,  n. 

Cancer  y Velasco,  d.  1654,  dramas,  II. 
413.  Poems,  414,  n.,  548.  His  Baldo- 
vinos,  487.  In  Comedias  Escogidas, 
III.  425. 

Cancion,  1.  120,  n. 

Cancionero,  what,  I.  120,  n.,  428. 
Caneionero  of  Baena,  I.  428. 

Cancionero  of  Esturdg.a,  I.  430. 
Cancionero  of  Catalan  poets,  I.  329,  430. 
Cancionero  of  Martinez  de  Burgos,  I. 
4.30,  n. 

Cancionero,  seven  others  in  manuscript, 

I.  430. 

Cancionero,  Saragossa,  I.  431. 
Cancionero  General  of  Castillo,  I.  432  - 
442,  II.  506. 

Cancionero  de  Obras  de  Burlas,  I.  442,  n. 
Cancionero  de  Romances,  III.  390. 
Canciones  in  Cancionero  General,  I.  437. 
Candamo,  Francisco  Bances,  d.  1704. 
Dramas,  II.  422.  Poems,  423,  w., 
549. 

Cailetc,  Marquis  of.  See  Mendoza,  Garcia. 
Cailizares,  Josef  de,  dramatist,  d.  1750,  II. 

427.  Imitates  the  French,  III.  313. 
Cantares,  what,  I.  161,  n. 

Ciintigas,  Las,  of  Alfonso  the  Wise,  I.  39 
and  n.,  42,  43. 

Cantoral,  Lomas  de,  f.  1578,  II.  506. 
Satires,  III.  4.  Elegies,  9.  Eclogues, 

10.  Didactic  poetry,  19. 

Cantos  de  Fuentes,  III.  27. 

Capata,  Luis  de,  f.  1565,  II.  456. 

Garcilasso,  I.  489,  n. 

Capmany,  Ilistory  of  Barcelona,  I.  323. 

Eloquencia  Espanola,  III.  128. 
Caporali,  Cesare,  imitated  by  Cervantes, 

II.  88,  n. 

Carate,  Agustin  de,  f.  1540, 1.  568. 
Carbajal  y Saavedra,  Mariana  de,  f.  1633, 
HI.  107  and  n. 

Carcel  de  Amor  of  San  Pedro,  I.  424. 

Continued  by  Nuficz,  425. 

Cardenal  de  Bclen,  El,  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

11.  223. 

Cardenal,  Pierre,  Troubadour,  I.  315. 
Cardona,  I.  442,  n. 

Carducho,  Vincencio,  d.  1638.  De  la 
Pintura,  III.  190,  n. 

Carew,  Richard,  translation  of  Huarte, 
HI.  189,  n. 

Caricature,  tendency  to,  in  Spanish  liter- 
ature, II.  487. 

Carillo,  Joseph,  f.  1750.  Defence  of  the 
old  drama  and  Ceiwantes,  II.  96. 
Carillo  Laso  de  la  Vega,  Alonso,  f 1657. 

Blank  verse  of,  1.  481,  n. 

Carlo  Famoso  of  Capata,  II.  456. 
Carlomagno,  a Romance  of  Chivalry,  I. 
244. 

Carlos,  son  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  131, 
132,  n.  148,  158. 


65 


514 


INDEX. 


Carlos,  Don,  play  on,  by  Montalvaii,  II. 
304. 

Camestolendas  de  Castilla  of  Hidalgo, 
XXX.  99  ?2. 

Caro,  Eodrigo,  f.  1595,  II.  546. 

Carolea,  La,  of  Semperc,  II.  455. 

Carranza,  Ardibisliop  of  Toledo,  perse- 
cuted, I.  466. 

Carriedo,  valley  of,  II.  120,  121,  «.,  334. 

Carrillo  y Sotomayor,  Luis,  d.  1610. 
Works,  II.  516,  517,  n.  Eclogues  III. 
13.  His  Erudicion  Pobtica,  III.  237,  n. 

Carrion,  Judio  dc.  See  Sardob,  Rabbi. 

Carroz,  Frances,  I.  442,  v. 

Carta  Puebla,  what,  III.  382,  n.  Of 
Aviles,  1.  11,  47,  III.  383,?!. 

Cartagena,  Alfonso  de,  I.  120,  294,  ?!., 
399,  4.35,  437. 

Cartas  del  Cavallero  de  la  Tenaza,  by 
Quevedo,  II.  269. 

Cartas  de  Enzina  of  Isla,  III.  266,  n. 

Cartas  Eruditas  of  Feyjod,  III.  244. 

Cartas  Marruccas  of  Cadahalso,  III.  277. 

Cartas  Philologicas  of  Cascales,  III.  136. 

Carteret,  Lord.  Edition  of  Don  Quix- 
ote, III.  417. 

Cartuxano,  El.  See  Padilla,  Juan  de,  and 
Montesino,  Ambrosio. 

Casa  con  Dos  Pucrtas  of  Calderon,  II. 
382. 

Casa  del  Plazer  Ilonesto  of  Salas  Bar- 
badillo.  III.  101. 

Casa,  Giovanni  deUa,  bis  Galateo,  III. 
187. 

Casaus.  See  Casas. 

Casarse  por  Vengarse  of  Eoxas,  III. 
270,  n.,  II.  409,  n. 

Casas,  Bartolome  de  las,  d.  1566.  Works, 
I.  56.3.  His  relations  to  slavery,  1. 564, 
n.  His  Brevisima  Eelacion,  I.  565. 
His  History  of  the  Indies,  I.  566. 

Cascales,  Er.,  f.  1616.  Tablas  Poeticas, 
III.  236.  His  letters,  136.  Opposes  the 
old  drama,  II.  328.  Partly  defends  it, 
332,  n.  Attacks  Gongora,  532. 

Casilda,  Santa,  of  Eeynosa,  III.  226. 

Cassandra,  Auto,  by  Vicente,  1.  285. 

Castega,  Domingo,  f.  1534.  Scgunda 
Celestina,  I.  269. 

Castel,  Louis  de  Vieil,  on  the  Spanish 
drama,  II.  327,  n. 

Castellanos,  Juan  de,  f.  1588, 11.  468. 

Castellanos,  Pedro  de  la  Vezilla.  See 
Vezilla. 

Castelvi,  Francisco,  Valencian  poet,  I. 
340. 

Castiglione,  Balthazar,  his  Courtier,  trans- 
lated by  Boscan,  1.  481. 

Castigo  de  la  Miseria,  by  Hoz,  II.  417. 

Castigo,  Dos  Venganzas  de  un,  of  Mon- 
talvan,  II.  306,  n. 

Castigo  sin  Venganza  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
n.  202  - 204. 

Castile,  name  of,  I.  8. 


Castilla,  Diego  de,  I.  183,  n. 

Castilla,  Francisco  de,  f.  1536,  didactic 
poetry,  IH.  17  and  n.,  I.  183,  n.  Sub- 
mits a book  to  the  Inquisition,  1. 462,  n. 
His  Proverbios,  III.  171,  n. 

Castillejo,  CriStoval  de,  f.  1580,  poetry  of, 
I.  500  - 503.  Narrative  poetry,  11. 
482,?!.  Eeligious,  517.  Satirical,  HI. 
3,  4. 

Castilian,  prevails  in  the  South  of  Spain, 
I.  341  -345.  Is  the  pure  Spanish, 
551.  Name  of,  IH.  384.  Its  purity 
in  Garcilasso,  1.  495,  n.  See  Spanish. 
Castillo,  Andi-e  del.  Tales,  III.  108. 
Castillo,  Diego  Enriquez  de,  f.  1474, 
chronicler,  I.  187,  394. 

Castillo,  Fernando  del,  his  Cancionero 
General,  I.  120,  432. 

Castillo  Interior  of  Sta.  Teresa,  IH.  178. 
Castillo,  Juan  Ignacio  Gonzalez  de,  f. 

1800,  dramas.  III.  328,  n. 

Castillo,  Leonardo  del,  f.  1667.  Journey 
of  Philip  iv.,  II.  396,  n. 

Castillo,  Solorzano.  See  Solorzano. 
Castro,  Adolfo  de,  IH.  59,  n.,  270,  ?i., 
328,  n.  On  the  Buscapie,  III.  406. 
Castro,  Count,  poet,  I.  442,  n. 

Castro,  Damian  de,  actor.  III.  340. 
Castro,  Duke  Fadrique  de,  poetical  court 
of,  1.  431. 

Castro,  Francisco  de,  f.  1720.  Dramas, 
HI.  316. 

Castro,  Guillen  de,  d.  1639.  Dramas,  II. 
283-293.  Mocedades  del  Cid,  287. 
Uses  ballads  on  the  Cid,  I.  142,  144,  n. 
Friend  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  128.  At 
the  Festivals  of  San  Isidro,  152,  153. 
His  Conde  Alarcos,  1.  127,  n.  Plays 
on  Don  Quixote,  III.  421.  See  Cw- 
neille,  P. 

Castro,  Julian  de,  dramatist,  c.  1770,  III. 
325. 

Castro,  Eodriguez  de,  d.  1799.  Biblio- 
teca  Espanola,  I.  24,  n. 

Castro  y Anaya,  Pedro  de,  f.  1632. 

Tales,  HI.  107  and  n. 

Castro  y Orozco,  Jose,  Luis  de  Leon,  II. 
51,  n. 

Catalan,  or  Catalonian  dialect,  I.  323 
and  ?!.,  325.  Flourishes,  329.  De- 
cays, 3.38.  Still  loved,  344,  n. 
Cataluna,  Guerra  de,  of  Melo,  IH.  1 63. 
Catariberas,  satue  on,  by  Diego  de  Men- 
doza, I.  519  and  n.  What,  III.  58. 
Cautivos  de  Argel  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
214. 

Cavallero  Assisio  of  Mata,  II.  470. 
Cavallero  de  Olmedo  of  Monteser,  II. 
487,  ?!. 

Cavallero  Determinado  of  Acuiia,  1. 499. 
Cavendish,  Life  of  Wolsey,  1.  199. 
Cazella,  Chaplain  of  Charles  v.,  perse- 
cuted, I.  466. 

Cazuela,  what,  H.  438,  IH.  315. 


INDEX. 


515 


Cean  Bermudez,  Life  of  Jovellanos,  III. 

■304,  n.  Diccionario,  21,  n. 

Cecial,  Tome,  pseudonyms  of  Forner, 
III.  294,  u.,  .331,  n. 

Cefalo  y Procris  of  Calderon,  II.  361. 
Cejudo,  Geronimo  Martin  Caro  y,  f. 

167.5,  Proverbs,  III.  172,  173,  n. 
Celestial  Chivalry,  a romance,  I.  245  - 
249. 

Cclestina,  La,  c.  1480,  1.  262-272.  Its 
actors,  263,  n.  Its  authors,  263,  n.  Its 
date,  263,  n.  Style  of  its  two  portions, 
265  and  n.  Its  character,  267.  Its 
merits  and  defects,  267,  268.  Its 
editions,  268,  n.  Its  translations,  268. 
Its  imitations,  269  - 271.  Its  influence 
and  popularity,  272.  Opinion  of,  by 
.loam  de  Barros,  292,  n. ; by  Diego  de 
Mendoza,  514,  n.  Used  by  Zepeda,  11. 
28. 

Celestina,  Segunda  Comedia  de,  by  Sil- 
va, I.  269  ; by  Castega,  id. ; by  Gomez 
de  Toledo,  id. 

Celtiberians,  III.  358. 

Celtic  language  in  Spain,  III.  358. 

Celts  in  Spain,  III.  357. 

Centenera,  Martin  del  Barco,  f.  1602,  II. 
469. 

Cepeda,  Joaquin  Eomero  de,  f.  1582. 
Comedia  Selvage,  I.  270.  Works,  II. 
27,  482,  .509,  n. 

Cepeda.  See  &peda. 

CeiTo  de  Sta.  Fe  of  Lope  de  Vega,  I. 
487,  /!.,  II.  248. 

Cerda  y Eico,  edition  of  the  Diana  of 
Polo,  III.  45,  n. 

Certamen  de  Amor  y Zclos  of  Calderon, 
II.  337. 

Certamenes.  See  Justas. 

Cervantes  Saavedra,  Miguel  dc,  d.  1616. 
Lives  of,  11.  52,  n.  Birth  and  educa- 
tion, 53,  54.  First  printed  verses,  54. 
At  Eomc,  55.  A soldier,  55.  At 
Lepanto,  and  wounded,  56.  At  Tu- 
nis, 56.  Captive  in  Algiers,  57  - 60. 
Ectunis  home,  60,  61.  Generous  na- 
ture, 60,  ?i.  In  Portugal  and  the 
Azores,  61.  Ilis  Galatea,  61-64. 
Mames,  64.  Literary  friends,  65. 
Writes  plays,  65  - 76.  At  Seville,  77. 
Imprisoned,  78.  Asks  an  employ- 
ment in  America,  78.  Poems,  79. 
In  La  Mancha,  80.  In  Valladolid,  81. 
In  poverty  and  in  prison,  81.  Don 
Quixote,  First  Part,  81.  In  Madrid, 
82.  Joins  a religious  brotherhood,  82. 
Ilis  relations  with  Lope  de  Vega,  82 

- 84.  His  Novclas  Exemplaros,  84 

- 88,  11.  .306,  420,  III.  67,  98.  His 
Viage  al  Parnaso,  II.  89.  His  view 
of  the  drama,  89,  90.  Writes  more 
plays,  91  -97.  Don  Quixote,  Second 
Part,  97.  His  Persiles  y Sigismunda, 
98.  His  illness  and  death,  98,  99. 


Monuments  to  him,  99,  n.  His  lost 
works,  100,  n.  His  Persiles  y Sigis- 
munda, 100  - 103.  His  Don  Quixote, 
104-119.  Minuteness  and  accuracy 
of  his  reading,  107,  n.,  117,  n.  Ilis 
popularity  and  fame,  118,  III.  422.  His 
character,  II.  119.  His  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  1.  194,  n.  His  ballads, 
III.  36.  His  verses  without  the  final 
syllable,  67,  n.  Sees  Lope  de  Eueda 
act,  II.  10.  Figures  in  a play  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  215.  Adds  words  to  the 
language.  III.  217,  218,  n.  On  Cul- 
tismo,  II.  531.  Attacked  by  Figueroa, 
HI.  51,  n. ; by  Villegas,  11.  542  and  n. 
His  opinion  of  Cclestina,  I.  268  ; of 
Amadis  de  Gaula,  230 ; of  Esplan- 
dian,  231  ; of  Palmerin,  238 ; of  Garci- 
lasso,495;  of  Lope  de  Eueda,  II.20,n. 

See  Arrieta ; Avellaneda ; Bouterwek  ; 
Bowie ; Buscapie  ; Caballero ; Capora- 
li ; Carillo  ; Conde  ; Foe,  De  ; Erirneno  ; 
Fermin  ; Fletcher ; Florian  ; Garces ; 
Ilacdo  ; Iloyos  ; Inglis  ; Larnpillas  ; 
Mabbe  ; Mayans  y Siscar ; Nasarre  ; 
Navarrete ; Pellicer,  J.  A.;  Perez ; Rios ; 
Roscoe  ; Sail’d ; Sismondi ; Temple  ; 
Vega,  Lope  de ; Wolfe,  F.  A.;  Zava- 
leta,  T. 

Cervantes  de  Salazar,  f.  1546.  Works, 

I.  5.36,  537. 

Cespedes,  Pablo  de,  d.  1608.  Didactic 
poetry,  HI.  20. 

Cespedes  y Mcneses,  Gonzalo  de,  f.  1617. 
His  Gerardo  and  Pindaro,  III.  87. 
Talcs,  107. 

Cetina,  Gutierre  dc,  c.  1560.  Poems,  I. 
500,  501  and  n. 

Cevalios,  Pedro  Ordonez  de,  f.  1614. 
Viage,  HI.  183,  n. 

Chaidc.  Sec  Malon  de  Chaide. 

Character,  national,  formation  of,  I.  7 
and  n.,  102  - 105,  156,  218.  Provencal 
influence  on  it  begins,  306  j decays, 
337,  341.  Influence  of  Italy  on  it, 
■346-352.  Its  intolerance,  446.  Its 
persecuting  spirit,  460.  Its  servile 
spirit,  468.  Its  bigotry,  468.  Its  de- 
cay, 471,  472.  Its  effect  on  the  drama, 

II.  430,  448-451;  on  epic  poetry, 
455,  502-504;  on  lyrical  poetry,  519, 
550  - 552 ; on  satirical  poetry.  III.  4, 

8 ; on  pastoral  poetry,  10  ; epigram- 
matic, 14;  didactic,  24;  ballad,  25,37, 

1.  106,  154  ; on  prose  fiction.  III.  38- 
40,  54,  55-58,  75,  76,84,  118-120; 
on  eloquence,  121-123;  on  episto- 
lary correspondence,  128;  on  histori- 
cal composition,  1.  156,  215,  216,  553, 

III.  138,  145,  152,  153,  165,  167;  on 
proverbs,  169  - 174 ; on  didactic  prose, 
196,  197.  False  direction  given  to 
the  national  character  under  Charles 
V.  and  Philip  ii.,  199.  Decay  under 


516 


INDEX. 


Philip  iii.,  200  ; under  Philip  iv.,  201  ; 
under  Charles  ii.,  203.  Its  continued 
degradation  by  bigotry  and  persecu- 
tion, 204,  205  ; by  servility,  207  - 209. 
Its  low  state  under  Philip  v.,  239,  240, 
246  - 248.  Its  improvement  under 
Ferdinand  vi.,  249  ; under  Charles  iii., 
254-258.  Its  trials  under  Charles  iv. 
and  Ferdinand  vii.,  343  - 348.  Hopes 
for  the  future,  349,  350. 

Charlemagne,  a French  poem  of  the  12th 
century,  I.  112,  ii. 

Charlemagne,  ballads  on,  I.  132. 

Charlemagne  and  his  Peers,  romances 
of  the  12th  century,  I.  219. 

Charles  i.  of  Spain,  v.  of  Germany,  abdi- 
cates, 1555,  dies.  Life  by  Sandoval, 
III.  151.  Translates  the  Chevalier 
Dhlibhrc,  I.  497.  Great  glory  of  his 
reign,  458.  Conquests  in  Italy,  475, 
476.  Coronation  there  bi’ought  on 
the  stage,  476.  Sustains  the  Inqui- 
sition, III.  205.  Effect  of  his  reign  on 
the  national  character,  199  ; on  epic 
poetry,  II.  455 ; on  romantic  fiction, 
III.  38  ; on  letter- writing,  128.  Lives 
at  Madrid,  II.  276. 

Charles  ii.,  d.  1700,  effects  of  his  reign, 
III.  203,  213;  on  the  Inquisition,  205. 
Believes  he  is  bewitched,  204  and  n. 
Flattered  by  Solis  and  Calderon,  II. 
396  and  n.,  HI.  209. 

Charles  iii.,  d.  1788,  effects  of  his  reign 
on  letters.  III.  255,  257. 

Charles  iv.,  effects  of  his  reign  on  letters, 
III.  343,  344.  Abdicated,  1808,  345. 
Persecutes  Jovellanos,  300. 

Chateaubriand,  L’Abencerrage,  III.  85. 

Chatillon,  Walter  de,  I.  57. 

Chaucer,  I.  22,  n.,  85. 

Chevalier  Delibhre,  I.  498. 

Chivalry,  institutions  of,  in  Spain,  1. 250. 

Chrespina,  a mock-heroic  poem,  II.  488. 

Christiada,  La,  of  Hojeda,  II.  473. 

Christiada,  La,  of  Encisso  y Mon^on,  II. 
474,  475. 

Christian  Chivalry,  a romance,  I.  245, 
246,  n, 

Christian  History,  a romance  of  chival- 
ry, I.  246. 

Christianity  introduced  into  Spain,  III. 
365.  Its  effect  on  the  Latin  spoken 
there,  366  and  n. 

Christian  Spaniards,  early,  ignorance  of, 
III.  378.  Sufferings,  381,  I.  7 and  n. 

Christina  of  Sweden,  play  on,  by  Calde- 
ron, II.  390. 

Christovalina,  Dona,  f 1605,  II.  515. 

Chronicles,  I.  156-217.  General  and 
royal,  157  - 191.  Of  particular  events, 
192-197.  Of  particular  persons,  197 
-202.  Of  travels,  202-212.  Roman- 
tic chronicles,  212-214.  Character 
of  the  early  Spanish  chronicles,  215 


-217.  Period  for,  ended,  553,  556, 
Chronicles  of  America,  556.  Chroni- 
cles used  for  ballads,  1. 135, 137  and  «., 
138,  139  and  n..  III.  26.  Sec  Cr6nica. 
Chroniclers  of  the  kingdom,  1. 174,  555,  n. 

Of  the  king’s  person,  555,  n. 
Chronicones,  forged  by  Higuera,  HI. 
152, 11. 

Church,  opposition  to  the  drama,  time 
of  Charles  v.  and  Philip  ii.,  II.  329, 
330,  216;  in  the  time  of  Calderon, 

394  ; in  the  18th  century,  HI.  341,  n. 
Cibdareal,  Fern.  Gomez  de,  Letters,  I. 

395  - 398,  353,  356,  359,  380,  382,  387. 
Their  genuineness.  III.  397  -403. 

Cicero  of  Father  Isla,  III.  264. 

Cid,  notice  of,  1. 13.  Arabic  accounts  of, 
13,  n.,  15,n.  Lives  of,  by  Risco,  Mailer, 
etc.,  13,  n.  Obscurity  of  his  history,  15, 
16,  n.  Life  in  Cronica  Rimada,  23,  n. ; 
in  Cronica  General,  160;  in  Cronica 
del  Cid,  167  - 172  ; in  Southey’s 
Chronicle,  12,  n.,  13,  n.  Tomb  of, 
168,  n. 

Cid,  Poem  of,  c.  1200,  I.  12-23.  Date 
of  MS.  of,  12,  n.  Date  of  the  poem 
itself,  ib.  Not  strictly  historical,  15. 
Its  subject,  16.  Its  language,  meas- 
ure, and  rhyme,  17.  Was  probably 
recited  publicly,  17,  n.  Its  story,  18 
-20.  Translations  from  it  by  Frcrc, 
19,??.  Not  a congeries  of  ballads,  20,??. 
Its  character,  22.  Opinions  on,  23,  n. 
Used  in  the  Cronica  General,  171,  ?z. ; 
in  the  Cronica  Rimada,  24,  n. 

Cid,  Poem  of,  by  Ayllon,  II.  457  ; by 
AiTcdondo,  457,  ??. 

Cid  Rcsuscitado,  by  Santos,  III.  115. 

Cid  Romancero,  I.  141,  ??.,  III.  34,  n. 
Ballads  on,  I.  140.  Not  historically 
exact,  144.  Sung  in  the  streets,  II. 
287,  n.  Additional  ballads  on,  IH. 
116,??.  Bee  Mocedades  (kl  Cid. 

Cielo,  Violante  del,  d.  1693.  Poetess,  II. 
529. 

Cienfuegos,  Nicasio  Alvarez  de,  d.  1809. 

Works,  III.  295.  Dramas,  329. 

Cifar,  romance  of  chivalry,  I.  242. 
Cigarrales  de  Toledo  of  Tirso,  HI.  104. 
Cinco  Martires  de  Arabia,  by  Vargas, 
H.  474. 

Cinna  of  Corneille,  III.  312. 

Cintia  de  Aranjuez  of  Corral,  HI.  51,  ??. 
Cintio  Merctisso,  his  Chrespina,  II.  488. 
Circe  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  156. 
Circourt,  Albert  de,  1.  449,  n.,  HI.  82,  ??., 
85,  n. 

Cisma  de  Inglaterra  of  Calderon,  II.  390. 
Cisneros,  Alonso,  his  Autos  Sacramen- 
tales,  II.  227,  ??. 

Cisneros,  Antonio,  f 1579,  dramatist, 
and  actor,  II.  25,  39,  ??. 

Clareo  y Florisea  of  Reinoso,  III.  77. 
Claribalte,  romance  of  chivalry,  I.  242. 


INDEX. 


517 


Glares,  Count,  ballad,  I.  lil,  136. 

Glares  Varones  of  Pulgar,  I.  431. 
Clavellinas  de  Kecreaeion  of  Salazar,  III. 
103. 

'Clavijo,  Euy  Gonzalez  de,  d.  1413.  Vi- 
da del  Gran  Tamerlan,  I.  303.  Idea 
' of  a River  of  Paradise,  I.  309,  n. 
Clcraencin,  Diego  dc,  on  the  Buscapie, 
III.  405.  Edition  of  Don  Quixote, 
419.  On  Queen  Isabella,  139,  n. 
Clement.  St.,  Spanish  college  of,  at  Bo- 
logna, I.  349. 

Clcomadez,  a romance  of  chivahy,  I. 
344. 

Clergy  wite  plaj’S,  II.  352. 

Chunente,  Fabio,  II.  483,  n. 

Cobias,  what,  I.  311,  n. 

Coho  de  la  Tone,  Jose,  III.  339,  n. 
Coello,  Antonio  de,  dramatist,  II.  337. 
Cofradias,  religious ; interest  in  the  thea- 
tre, II.  36,  n. 

Coins,  Arabic,  of  Clulstian  potentates  in 
Spain,  III.  379. 

Coleccion  de  Cedulas,  etc.,  I.  47,  n. 
Colonia,  Juan  de,  f.  1579.  Decada  de 
la  Pasion,  II.  458. 

Coloma,  Marquis  of  Espinar,  d.  1637. 
Guen-as  de  los  Estados  Baxos,  III. 
160.  Adds  words  to  the  Castilian, 
217,  218,  n. 

Colonna,  Guido  de,  I.  57. 

Colonna,  Giovanni,  Mare  Historianim,  I. 
401. 

Colonna,  Vittoria.  I.  474. 

Coloquios  de  Espina,  by  Sedano,  III. 

20. 

Coloquios  of  Lope  de  Rueda,  II.  13. 
Colmenares,  Diego  de.  Hist,  dc  Segovia, 

II.  10,  n. 

Columbus,  d.  1506,  I.  206-211.  His 
works,  211,  n.  Accoimt  of,  by  Ber- 
naldcz,  189.  By  Humboldt,  211,  n. 
His  intolerance,  447.  In  plays  of 
Lope  de  Vega,  II.  199-203.  His 
signatm-e,  343,  n.  His  letters,  HI. 
138. 

Columbus,  Ferdinand,  I.  325. 

Columella,  a Spaniard,  HI.  364. 

Coraedia  Famosa,  title,  II.  441. 
Comedias,  what,  II.  178. 

Comedias  de  Capa  v Espada,  II.  179, 
381. 

Comedias  Heroicas,  II.  192.  215,  n. 
Comedias  on  common  life,  II.  210. 
Comedias  de  Apariencias,  II.  210,  n. 
Comedias  de  Ruido,  II.  210,  n.,  4.37. 
Comedias  Religiosas,  II.  217. 

Comedias  de  Santos,  II.  223.  Alleged 
religious  influence,  226,  n.,  337,  330. 
Not  always  tine,  330,  n.  Light,  world- 
ly tone,  358,  n.  Figueroa’s  account  of, 
358,  n. 

Comedias  de  Diferentes  Autores,  collec- 
tion of,  HI.  423. 


Comedias  Escogidas,  collection  of.  III. 
424,  426. 

Comedieta  de  Ponza,  not  a drama,  I. 

259,  n.  Account  of,  375. 

Coinella,  Luciano  Francisco  de,  f.  1790. 
Dramas,  III.  332.  Attacked  by  IMo- 
ratin,  336. 

Comentarios  de  la  Guerra  de  Espaiia,  by 
San  Phelipe,  III.  230. 

Comico  Festejo  of  Castro,  IH.  316,  n. 
Commercial  Code,  first,  I.  349. 
Commines,  I.  181. 

Commodiis  of  Herodian,  translated  by 
Zabaleta,  II.  414.  n. 

Coinjjaraciones  of  Villegas,  I.  504. 
Complaints  of  Alfonso  the  Wise.  See 
Querellas. 

Comuneros,  War  of.  III.  199. 
Conceptistas,  school  of,  II.  518. 
Conceptos  Espirituales  of  Ledesma,  II. 
518. 

Conde,  Claudio,  friend  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  127  and  n.,  130. 

Conde,  J.  A.,  d.  1821.  Preface  yii.,  I. 
9,  n.  On  the  Ballads,  109  and  n.  On 
Miguel  de  Luna,  215,  n.  On  Don 
Quixote,  II.  117.  Story  of  Narvaez, 

III.  95. 

Conde  Lucanor.  See  Liicanor. 
Condenado  por  Desconfiado  of  Tirso  de 
Molina,  II.  355. 

Condesa  de  Castilla  of  Cicnfuogos,  IH. 
.329. 

Confusa,  La,  lost  play  of  Cervantes,  II. 
66,  89,  n. 

Conqnista  de  la  Nueva  Castilla,  poem, 
II.  456,  n. 

Conquista  del  Nuevo  Mexico  of  Villagra, 

II.  469. 

Conquista  en  Granada  of  Diaz,  II.  495. 
Consejos,  Libro  de,  of  Don  Juan  Manuel, 

I.  65,  n.,  69. 

Consonante,  what,  I.  112. 

Constante  Amarilis  of  Figueroa,  III. 
50. 

Contra  Valor  no  hay  Dcsdicha,  by  Lope 
de  Vega,  H.  208,  n. 

Conti'eras,  Hieronimo  de,  f.  1573.  Sel- 
va de  Aventuras,  HI.  78.  Dechado, 
lb.,  n. 

Coplas  Trecientas  of  Juan  de  Mena,  I. 
384. 

Coplas  of  Mamlqne,  I.  406. 

Cordero,  Jacinto,  dramas,  II.  323. 
Cordova,  culture  there  under  the  Arabs, 

III.  375. 

Cordova,  Gonzalvo  de.  Chronicle  of,  by 
Pulgar,  I.  200. 

Cordova,  Maria  de,  actress,  II.  434  and 
n. 

Corclas,  Alonso  Lopez  de,  f.  1546.  His 
Trecientas  Preguntas,-!.  531. 

Corneille,  P.,  imitates  Spanish  dramas. 

II.  431.  Of  GuiUen  de  Castro,  289. 

RR 


518 


INDEX. 


Of  MiradeMescua,  316.  Of  Alarcon, 
322. 

Corneille,  Thomas,  imitates  Tirso  de 
Molina,  II.  310.  Calderon,  402,  n. 
Roxas,  411.  Solis,  420. 

Cornejo,  Francisco  liamiaii  de,  drama- 
tist, II.  327. 

Cornelia  of  Timoneda,  II.  20,  21  and  n. 

Coro  de  las  Musas  of  Barrios,  II.  415,  n. 

Coro  Fclieo  of  Cueva,  111.  31. 

Corona  Gotica  of  Saavedra  Faxardo, 
III.  164. 

Corona  Trdgica  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
159. 

Coronacion  of  Juan  de  Mena,  I.  383. 

Coronas  del  Parnaso  of  Salas  Barba- 
dillo.  III.  102  and  n. 

Coronel,  poet,  I.  442,  n. 

Coronel,  Barbara,  actress,  II.  434. 

Coronel,  Garcia  de  Salcedo,  f.  1650. 
On  Gongora,  II.  526,  n.,  III.  6. 

Coqnis  Christi,  procession  of,  II.  227, 
228,  229  and  «.,  345,  346. 

Corral,  Gabriel  do,  f.  1632.  His  Cintia, 
III.  51  and  n. 

Correa,  Isabel  de,  translation  of  Pastor 
Fido,  III.  50,  n. 

Correa  de  Serra,  Joseph,  II.  376,  n.,  III. 
410. 

Cors,  Lambert  li,  I.  57. 

Cortcreal,  Hieronimo  de,  f.  1578,  II.  492, 
493,  n. 

Cortes,  drama  of  Atabualpa,  III.  329. 

Cortes,  Fernando,  dedication  to,  I.  537. 
Academia  at  bis  hou.se,  537,  ra..  III. 
223.  Relaciones,  I.  557.  Las  Casas’s 
opinion  of,  566.  Poems  on,  II.  467, 
III.  305,  306,  n. 

Cortes  de  Tolosa,  Juan,  Lazarillo  of  the 
Manzanares,  I.  513. 

Cortina,  Jose  Gomez  de  la,  translation 
of  Boutei-wek,  I.  33,  n. 

Costana,  poet,  I,  436. 

Costanza  of  Castillejo,  I.  503,  n.,  II.  5. 

CosUimes  on  the  Stage,  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, II.  452.  Eighteenth,  III.  315. 

Cota,  Rodrigo,  f.  1470.  Supposed  author 
of  Mingo  Revmlgo,  I.  260.  Of  Dia- 
logue between  Love  and  an  Old  Man, 
261.  Of  first  act  of  La  Celestina,  263. 
Satire  of.  III.  3. 

Court,  influence  on  early  Spanish  litera- 
ture, I.  106.  School  of  poctiy  in  the 
time  of  John  ii.,  352,  444. 

Conrt-vmrds,  plays  acted  in,  II.  36,  436  - 
440,‘III.  314. 

Covadonga,  battle  of,  I.  214,  n. 

CovaiTubias,  J.  Horozco,  Emblemas,  III. 

22. 

Covamibias,  Seb.  de,  his  Pesoro,  III. 
219. 

Covamibias  Herrera,  Geronimo  de,  Ena- 
morada  Elisea,  III.  49,  n. 

Creacion  del  Mundo,  by  Azevedo,  II.  474. 


Creacion  del  Mundo,  by  Lope  de  Vega, 
II.  221. 

Crescendo,  Juan  Bautista,  Italian  archi- 
tect, II.  185. 

Crespe  de  Borja,  Luis,  assails  the  drama. 
II.  352, 71. 

Crespe,  Luis,  f.  1506.  Valencian  poet, 
1.  341. 

Criticon  ofGracian,  III.  192. 

Croisade  conti-e  les  Ilerhticpies  Albigcois, 
n Proven(;al  poem,  I.  29,  )i. 

Cronica  General,  I.  158.  Character  of, 
161,  166. 

Cronica  del  Cid,  I.  166  - 172. 

Cronica  de  Alfonso  x.,  I.  174,  39,  n.,  III. 
170. 

Cronica  de  Sancho  el  Bravo,  I.  174. 
Cronica  de  Fernando  iv.,  I.  174. 

Cronica  de  Alfonso  xi.,  I.  175. 

Cronica  de  Pedro  el  Cruel,  I.  177. 
Cronica  de  Juan  i.,  I.  177. 

Cronica  de  Enrique  iii.,  I.  177. 

Cronica  de  Juan  ii.,  I.  183-  186. 

Cronica  de  Espana,  por  Valera,  I.  184, 
n. 

Cronica  de  Enrique  iv.,  by  Castillo,  I. 
187. 

Cronica  de  Enrique  iv.,  by  Palencia,  1. 
187. 

Cronica  de  Fernando  y Isabela,  por  Ber- 
naldez,  I.  188. 

Cronica  de  Fernando  y Isabela,  por  Pul- 
gar,  I.  189. 

Cronica  del  Passo  Honroso,  I.  193. 
Cronica  del  Seguro  de  Tordesillas.  I. 
195. 

Cronica  de  Pero  Niiio,  I.  197. 

Cronica  de  Alvaro  de  Luna,  I.  198. 
Cronica  de  Gonzalvo  do  Cordova,  I.  200, 
201,  n. 

Cronica  de  la  Vida  del  Gran  Tamorlan. 

I.  204. 

Ci'onica  de  Don  Rodrigo,  I.  212,  215. 
n. 

Cronica  do  San  Luis,  I.  217,  n. 

Cronica  de  E.spana  de  Don  Juan  Manu- 
el, I.  65. 

Cronica  de  Navarra  del  Principe  de  Vi- 
ana,  III.  168,  n. 

Cronica  Universal  de  Maldonado,  III. 
153,  n. 

Cronica  de  Jaume  el  Conquistador,  I. 
315,  316. 

Cronica  de  Muntaner,  I.  318. 

Cronica  Rimada  de  Espana,  I.  23,  n. 
Cronicas,  Suma  de  todas  las,  I.  216,  n. 
Cruz,  La,  poem  by  Trapeza,  III.  22. 
Craz,  Inez  de  la,  d.  1 695.  Lmical  poetry, 

II. 549.  Dramas, 429.  Eclogues,III. 
13. 

Cruz,  Ramon  de  la,  f.  1790.  Dramas. 
HI.  326. 

Cniz,  San  Juan  de  la.  d.  1591.  Didactii,' 
works.  III.  178.  Persecuted,  I.  466. 


INDEX 


519 


Cruz,  Santa,  f.  l.'iTI.  His  Apotegmas, 
III.  173,  n. 

Cruz,  Theatre  of  the,  II.  37,  III.  314. 
Cryselia  de  Lidaceli,  III.  86  and  n. 
Cubillo,  Alvaro,  f.  1654.  Plays,  II. 

218,  n.,  412.  Poems,  413,  «.,  548. 
Cudolada,  what,  I.  334. 

Cuellar,  Juan  Martinez  de,f.  1663.  Tales, 
III.  113,  n.  Dramas,  II.  417. 

Cuerdo  en  su  Casa  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
211,  367,  n. 

Cueva,  Juan  de  la,  f 1608,  dramatist, 
II.  26.  Epic  poetry,  497.  Didactic 
poetry.  III.  20.  Ballads,  31. 

Cuevas  de  Salamanca  of  Moraes,  III 
225. 

Cuevas,  Francisco  de  las,  pseudonyme 
of  Quintana,  Fr.,  q.  v. 

Cultismo,  II.  519  - 533.  Lope  de  Vega 
attacks  it,  156,  531 ; falls  into  it,  246,  n. 
Quevedo  on,  263  ; Texada,  III.  91,  n. ; 
Calderon,  II.  396 ; Jauregui,  541  ; 
Zarate,  415;  Herrera,  514;  Villegas, 
544,  n. ; Rebolledo,  549,  n.  In  pulpit 
eloquence,  III.  127.  In  tales,  117,  n. 
In  didactic  prose,  190.  Prevails  every- 
where, 194.  In  the  language,  218. 
Discussed  in  Italy,  427  -431. 

Culture,  Spanish.  See  Character. 
Cumplida,  La,  by  Don  Juan  Manuel,  I. 
65,  n. 

Curial  del  Parnaso  of  Matias  de  los 
Reyes,  III.  106,  n. 

Custodia,  a play,  II.  4. 


D. 

Dafne  of  Villamediana,  II.  483. 

Dama,  what,  II.  240. 

Dama  Beata  of  Camerino,  III.  103,  n. 
Dama  Duende  of  Calderon,  11.  383. 
Damian,  Cosme,  pseudonyme  of  Forner, 
III.  331,  n. 

Dancing,  national,  I.  114,  II.  445.  On 
the  stage,  446. 

Danza  General,  I.  89.  Not  a drama, 
259.  The  poem,  III.  459. 

Dante,  Commedia  in  Catalan,  I.  331  ; 
in  Castilian  by  Villena,  352  ; by  Ville- 
gas, 409,  n. 

Dantisco,  Gracian,  f 1599.  Galateo,  III. 
187. 

Dares  Phrygius,  I.  57. 

Davalos,  fiimily  of,  I.  436,  «.,  476. 

David  of  Uziel,  II.  475,  n. 

David  Perseguido,  etc.,  of  Lozano,  III. 
195,  n. 

Davila,  Juan,  f 1661,  II.  475. 

Davila,  Pedrarlas,  the  discoverer,  I.  211. 
Davila  y Heredia,  f 1676.  Comedia  sin 
Musica,  II.  424,  n. 

Daza,  Emblem  as  de  Alciato,  III.  22. 
Decada  de  la  Pasion  of  Coloma,  II.  458. 


Decada  de  los  Cesares  of  Guevara,  I. 
543  and  n. 

Decimas,  11.  507,  III.  68. 

Declamacion  contra  los  Abusos  de  la 
Lengua  Castellana,  III.  218,  n. 
Helena,  f 1434.  Passo  Honroso,  I.  193,  n. 
Deleytoso  of  Lope  de  Eneda,  II.  10. 
Deleytar  Aprovechando  of  Tirso  de 
Molina,  III.  105. 

Delgado,  Jacinto  Maria,  Ms  Don  Quix- 
ote, III.  421. 

Delgado,  Juan  Pinto,  c.  1590.  Poems,  II. 
49,  n. 

Delinquente  Honrado  of  Jovellanos,  III. 
298,  323. 

Delphino  Dominico,  I.  418. 

Denia,  Fiestas  de.  See  Fiestas. 

Dennis,  Geo.,  The  Cid,  I.  14,  n. 
Depping,  C.  B.,  Eomancero,  I.  129,  III. 
395. 

Desden  con  el  Desden  of  Moreto,  II. 
406. 

Desgraciada  Raquel,  La,  of  Mira  de 
Mescua,  11.  316  and  n. 

Descriptive  poetry  in  Spanish,  11. 469,  n., 
III.  23. 

Desengano,  what.  III.  113,  n. 

Desengano  al  Teatro  of  Moratin,  III. 
324. 

Desengano  del  Hombre  of  Cuellar,  III. 
113,  n. 

Desengano  de  Zelos  of  Enciso,  III.  47. 
Deucalion  of  Torrepalma,  III.  229,  n. 
Devocion  de  la  Cruz  of  Calderon,  II. 
355. 

Devotional  poetry  in  the  Cancionero 
General,  I.  433,  434. 

Dexter,  Flavius  Lucius,  forged  Chroni- 
con  of,  III.  152,  n. 

Deza  y Avila,  f 1663.  Eutremeses,  II. 
445,  n. 

Diablo  Cojuelo  of  Guevara,  III.  110. 
Diablo  anda  Suelto,  El,  of  Santos,  HI 
116. 

Diablo  Predicador,  drama,  II.  325. 

Dia  Grande  of  Isla,  III.  259. 

Dialogue  between  Love  and  an  Old 
Man,  poem,  c.  1470,  I.  261. 

DiMogo  de  las  Lenguas,  I.  546,  547. 
Diamante,  Juan  Bautista,!.  1674.  Drama, 
11.  416.  Imitates  Corneille,  292,  n., 
416.  In  Comedias  Escogidas,  III. 
425. 

Diana,  Fortun-as  de,  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
11.  156. 

Diana  Enamorada  of  Montemayor,  HI. 
40  ; of  Perez,  43  ; of  Polo,  44 ; of 
Texada,  45,  n.  See  Yonj,  Bart. 

Diana  of  Moratin,  III.  273. 

Diario  de  los  Literatos,  IH.  229,  n. 

Dias  de  Fiesta  of  Zabaleta,  III.  195. 

Dia  y Noche  en  Madrid  of  Santos,  III. 
113. 

Diaz.  Alonzo,  f 1611,  II.  474. 


520 


INDEX. 


Diaz,  Bernal,  f.  1558,  his  History,  I.  559. 
Diaz,  Canon,  Amadis,  I.  234. 

Diaz,  Edoardo,  f.  1590,  II.  495. 

Diaz,  Pero,  Proverbs  of  Seneca,  I.  378. 
Dicastillo,  f.  1637,  Aula  de  Dios,  III.  23. 
Dichosos  Ilermanos  of  Moreto,  II.  404. 
Dictionaries,  eaidiest  in  Spanish,  I.  549. 

Of  the  Academy,  III.  219. 

Dictys  Cretensis,  I.  57. 

Didactic  prose,  time  of  Charles  v.,  I.  531 
- 547  ; from  the  time  of  Philip  ii.  to 
that  of  Philip  v.,  III.  1G9,  174-  197. 
Its  corruption,  191,  194.  Its  little 
success,  196  Causes  of  its  failure, 
196. 

Didactic  poetry,  early,  I.  529,  III.  17; 
time  of  Philip  ii..  III.  18.  Small 
amount  of.  III.  24. 

Dido,  I.  159,  160,  n.  Defended  by  Er- 
cilla,  II.  463. 

Diego  de  Alcald  of  Lope  de  Vega,  U. 
223. 

Diego  de  Noche,  Don,  of  Salas  Barba- 
dillo,  III.  102,  n. ; of  Roxas,  ib. 

Diez,  Fried.,  Grammatik,  III.  372,  n. 
Dieze,  J.  A.,  translates  Velazquez,  III. 
252,  n. 

Dineros  son  Calidad  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  180,  309. 

Diosdado,  on  Cibdareal,  III.  397. 

D’  Irlos,  Count.  See  hios. 

Disciplina  Clericalis  of  Petrus  Alphon- 
sus,  1.  70,  n. 

Discursus  de  Erroribus,  etc.,  of  Mariana, 

III.  146,  147,  n. 

Diversiones  Publicas  of  Jovellanos,  III. 
300. 

Divino  Orfeo  of  Calderon,  II.  348. 
Doblado’s  Letters.  See  White,  Joseph 
Blanco. 

Doce  Pares,  Eomancero  de,  III.  34,394. 
Doce  Triunfos  of  PadiUa,  I.  413. 
Docientas  Preguntas  of  La  Torre,  I.  531. 
Doctrina  Christiana,  a poem,  I.  88. 
Dohrn,  Spanische  Dramen,  translated 
from  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  234,  n. 
Domestic  honor  on  the  Spanish  stage, 
II.  392. 

Domine  Lucas  of  Cafiizares,  II.  428. 
Domingo  Abad  de  los  Romances,  1. 116. 
Domingo  de  Don  Bias  of  Alarcon,  II. 
320. 

Domingo  de  Silos,  San,  by  Berceo,  I. 
28,  30,  32. 

Dorns,  Jaime,  III.  331,  n. 

Don,  as  a title,  I.  30,  n. 

Donado  Hablador,  El,  of  Yariez,  III.  71 
and  n. 

Donzella  Teodor,  by  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 

212,  242,  n.  Old  tale  of,  212,  n. 
Dormer,  Diego  Josef,  Life  of  Zurita,  III. 
140,  n. 

Dorotea  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  124,  160, 
161  and  n. 


Dos  Verdaderos  Amigos,  a tale,  III.  88. 
Douce,  Fr.,  I.  72,  n.  On  the  Dance  of 
Death,  90,  n. 

Drake,  Sir  Francis,  Lope  de  Vega’s 
poem  on,  II.  140.  Popular  opinion 
of,  in  Spain,  140  and  n.  Fitzgeftrey’s 
poem  on,  141,  n. 

Dragontea,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
140. 

Drama,  ancient  classical,  fall  of,  I.  254. 
Expelled  from  Spain  by  the  Arabs, 
257  and  n. 

Drama,  Spanish,  first  appearance,  I.  256. 
Attempts  in  the  fifteenth  century,  259. 
Mingo  Revulgo,  260.  La  Celestina, 
262.  Enzina,  273.  Vicente,  282.  Tor- 
res Naharro,  295.  State  in  the  reign 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  305.  State, 
time  of  Charles  v.,  II.  4.  Lope  de 
Rueda  and  his  followers,  9-25.  At- 
tempts at  Seville,  26  ; at  Valencia, 
28  ; in  the  manner  of  the  ancients,  30 
-34.  State  in  the  time  of  Philip  ii.,  35 
-39.  When  Cervantes  first  wrote  for 
it,  65 ; when  he  wrote  again,  90. 
State  when  Lope  de  Vega  appeared, 
166-174;  his  dramas,  174- 254  ; his 
school,  276  - 332.  Calderon,  333  - 402; 
his  school,  403-429.  Decline  of  the 
drama,  427  - 429.  Its  characteristics, 
actors,  and  audiences,  430  - 452.  Its 
state  in  the  eighteenth  century.  III. 
312-342.  Opposed  by  the  Church, 

II.  3,  216  and  n.,  217,  n.,  329,  351, 
352,  n.,  394  ; by  the  learned,  328. 
Triumphs  over  both,  331,332.  Im- 
morality of,  II.  216  and  n.  Ideas  of 
domestic  honor,  392.  Duels  in,  393. 
Acted  in  religious  houses,  224.  Re- 
ligious plays  light  and  worldly,  354, «., 
358,  359  and  n.  Titles  of  plays,  179. 
Often  acted  and  not  printed,  175. 
Stolen  by  booksellers,  180,  n.  Written 
by  more  than  one  author,  411.  On 
Algerine  captivity,  419.  Reserved  for 
the  king  alone,  451,  n.  Much  in  the 
nature  of  tales.  III.  117,  118.  Collec- 
tions of,  423  -426. 

Dramatic  poets,  their  consideration,  II. 
431.  Their  troubles,  432.  Their 
number,  449. 

Drogas,  Tractado  de,  of  Acosta,  III.  175. 
Drj  den,  imitates  Calderon,  II.  382. 
Duels,  dramatic,  II.  391. 

Duelos  de  Amor  y Lcaltad,  play  of 
Calderon,  II.  389. 

Duefias,  Juan  de,  I.  394. 

Dunham,  S.  A.,  History  of  Spain,  I. 
32,  n. 

Duque  de  Viseo  of  Quintana,  III.  309. 
Duran,  Agustin,  collects  ballads,  I.  129, 

III.  396.  Estrella  de  Sevilla,  II.  205,  n. 
Spanish  drama,  372,  n.  Ramon  de  la 
Cruz,  III.  328,  n. 


IxNDEX. 


521 


Dnrandarte,  ballad  on,  I.  133,  n. 
D’Urfe’s  Astrea,  III.  119. 

Diiverdier,  Amadis  de  Gaule,  I.  234. 


E. 

Eclorrnes,  III.  10-14.  Often  acted,  II. 
237  and  n.  In  Question  de  Amor,  I. 
427.  Garcilasso,  491.  Lope  do  Vega, 
II.  236  - 238.  Melendez,  III.  286. 
Edom  o’  Gordon,  Ballad,  I.  153. 
Egcmplar  Poetico  of  Cueva,  III.  20. 
Eicliendorff,  J.  von,  translation  of  Conde 
Lucanor,  I.  75,  n. 

Eichhorn,  John  Gottfried,  I.  33,  n. 
Elegias  de  Varones  Ilustres  de  Iiidias,  by 
Castellanos,  II.  468. 

Elegies,  III.  8 - 10. 

Elisa  Dido  of  Virues,  II.  29. 

Eloquence,  Forensic,  early,  III.  121. 
Discouraged,  122.  Pulpit,  122.  False 
taste  in,  i27.  Decays,  128. 
Eloquencia  del  Silencio  of  Zevallos,  III. 
226. 

Eloquencia  Espanola  of  Artiga,  III.  237, 
n.  Of  Capmany,  128,  n. 

Eloquencia  Espaiiola  of  Paton,  III.  188. 
Embaxador,  El,  of  Vera  y Zuiliga,  III. 
184. 

Emblems,  what,  III.  22. 

Emigrados,  Ocios  de.  III.  349,  n. 
Empeiios  del  Mentu'  of  Mendoza,  III. 
270,  n. 

Empresas  Pollticas  of  Faxardo,  III.  185. 
Enamorada  Elisea  of  Covarnibias  Her- 
rera, III.  49,  n. 

Enciso,  Bart.  Lopez  de,  f.  1586.  Desen- 
gano  de  Zelos,  III.  47. 

Enciso,  Diego  Ximenez  de,  dramatist,  II. 
323. 

Enciso,  Lopez  do,  play  on  Juan  Latino, 
II.  491,  n. 

Encisso  V Monqon,  Juan  Francisco  de,  f. 

1694,  il.  474. 

Endechas,  what.  III.  10,  n. 

Endrina,  Dona,  and  Don  Melon,  of  the 
Archpriest  of  Ilita,  I.  259,  n. 

Enemiga  Favorable,  play  of  Tarrega,  II. 
279  and  n. 

Engailos,  Los,  of  Lope  dc  Rueda,  II. 

11. 

Engenos,  Libro  de  los,  by  Don  Juan 
Manuel,  I.  65,  n. 

England,  mysteries  long  acted  in,  I. 
256. 

Enriquez,  Andres  Gil,  dramatist,  II.  323. 
Enriquez  Gomez,  Antonio,  f.  1660.  Si- 
glo  Pitagorico,  III.  73.  Dramas,  II. 
414.  Sanson,  474. 

Ens,  Gaspar,  trans.  of  Guzman  de  Alfa- 
rache,  III.  64. 

Entremeses,  what,  II.  231.  Origin  and 
character,  17,  u.,  444.  Writers  of,  445, 

VOL.  III.  66 


n.  Timoneda,  20.  Cervantes,  94. 
Lope  de  Vega,  231,  232,  234-  236. 
Entretenido  of  Tortoles  and  Moraleja, 
III.  106,  u.,  250. 

Enxiemplos,  what,  I.  82. 

Enzina,  Juan  de  la,  d.  1534,  I.  273. 
Lives  at  Rome,  and  visits  Jerusalem, 
274.  His  works,  274.  Representa- 
ciones,  275.  Structm'e  of  his  dramatic 
compositions,  275.  Religious,  276. 
Secular,  277.  First  dramas  acted  by 
secular  persons,  277.  Their  character, 
277  -282.  Ballads,  120.  Did  not 
write  a play  for  the  man-iage  of  Ferdi- 
nand and  Isabella,  259,  n.  Poetica, 
III.  235. 

Enzina,  Juan  de  la.  Cartas,  by  Isla,  HI. 
266,  n. 

Euzinas,  Pedro  de.  Eclogues,  HI.  12. 

Noticed  in  the  Buscapie,  407. 

Epic  poetiy,  II.  454  - 504.  Its  national 
character,  503.  Thirteenth  centurv, 
HI.  226,  227  and  n.,  273,  283,  u.,  289, 
290,  )!.,  .305,  306. 

Epigrammatic  poetry.  III.  14-17. 
Epistles,  poetical.  III.  4-6. 

Epistolary  correspondence,  early,  HI. 

128.  Small  amount  of,  137. 

Era,  Spanish,  wh,at,  I.  12,  n. 

Ercilla,  Alonso  dc,  f.  1590.  Life,  II. 
458.  His  Araucana,  461.  Effect  on 
the  language.  III.  217.  In  a play  of 
Lope,  il.  207,  n. 

Erro,  Lengua  Primitiva,  etc.,  III.  357, 
n. 

Eruditos  a la  Violeta  of  Cadahalso,  III. 
276. 

Erving,  G.  W.,  Primitive  Language  of 
Spain,  III.  357,  n. 

Escanderbeeh,  auto  of  Montalvan,  H. 
305. 

Escarmientos  de  Jacinto  of  Villalpando, 
HI.  109. 

Esclava  de  su  Galan  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  180,  210. 

Esclavos  de  Argel  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
68,  n. 

Escobar,  Juan  de,  Romancero  del  Cid, 

III.  34,  394. 

Escobar,  Luis  de,  f.  1552.  His  CCCC. 

Respuestas,  etc.,  I.  529. 

Escobar  Cabeza  de  la  Vaca,  Pedro  de, 
f.  1587.  His  Lucero  de  Tien-a  Santa, 

I.  274,  n. 

Escobar  y Mendoza,  Antonio  de,  f.  1613, 

II.  474. 

Escoiquiz,  Juan  de,  f.  1814.  Works,  III. 

305.  His  political  position,  345. 
Escondido,  El,  y la  Tapada,  of  Calderon, 
II.  395. 

Escriva,  El  Comendador,  f.  1497.  Quexa 
dc  su  Amiga,  I.  293,  «.,  .340,  II.  375 
and  n. 

Escudero,  what,  HI.  69,  n. 

RR* 


522 


INDEX, 


E,scuer,  Pedro,  publisher  of  plays,  III. 
423. 

Escurial,  Diego  do  Mendoza  gives  his 
books  to,  I.  527,  n.  Described  by 
Siguenza,  III.  143,  n.  Plot  of,  344. 
Eslava,  Antonio  de,  f.  1609.  Tales,  III. 
102. 

Eslava  de  Eonda,  pseudonjmie  of  Sedano, 
III.  271,  n. 

Espana  Defendida  of  Eiguero.a,!!.  500,  n. 
E.si)6eulo,  or  Espejo,  of  Alfonso  the  Wise, 

I.  39,  n.,  49. 

Esjiina,  Coloqnios,  by  Sedano,  III.  271, 
n. 

Espincl,  Vicente,  f.  1625.  Poetry,  III. 
68.  Marcos  do  Obregon,  69.  Festi- 
vals of  San  Isidro,  11.  152.  Poetry, 
507  and  n.  Poetical  Epistles,  III.  6. 
Eclogues,  13. 

Espinelas,  what.  III.  68. 

Espinosa,  Nicolas  de,  f.  1550,  II.  458, 
476. 

Espinosa,  Pedro,  f.  1605.  His  Elorcs, 

II.  515.  Eclogue,  III.  13. 

Es])inossa,  I'elix  de  Lucio  y,  lyrical 

poetry,  f.  1674,  II.  549. 

Esphindian,  by  Montalvo,  I.  231.  Its 
character,  232. 

Esquilache,  Principe  do  Borja  y,  d. 
1658.  Elis  Napoles  Rccuperada,  II. 
501,  502,  n.  Lyrical  poetry,  546. 
Epistles,  III.  6.  Elegies,  9.  Ec- 
logues, 13.  Epigram.s,  15.  Ballads, 
.33. 

Esquivias,  notices  of,  by  Ceiwantcs,  II. 
64,  n. 

Estados  de  la  Espiritual  Jcrusalen  of 
Marquez,  III.  184,  n. 

Estados,  Libro  de  los,  by  Don  Juan 
Manuel,  I.  65,  n. 

Estella,  Diego  de,  d.  1578.  Didactic 
prose,  III.  189,  n. 

Estevanilld  Gonzalez,  f.  1646.  Autobi- 
ography, III.  74.  See  Sar/e,  Le. 
Estrella  de  Sevilla  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
205  and  n.,  243. 

Estremeno,  El  Zeloso,  of  Cciwantes,  II. 
87. 

Estuniga,  Cancionero.  I.  430. 

Eufemia  of  Lope  de  Rueda,  II.  12. 
Eufrosina,  imitation  of  Celestina,  1. 270,  n. 
Euphuists,  II.  520. 

Europa  of  Villamediana,  II.  483. 
Eusebio  of  Montengon,  III.  283,  n. 
Eustorgio  y Clorilene  of  Suarez  de  Men- 
doza, II.  102,  n. 

Everett,  A.  H.,  Preface,  viii.  On  Gil 
Bias.  III.  268,  n. 

Evia,  Jacinto  de,  f.  1676.  Poetrv,  II. 
549. 

Examen  de  Ingenios  of  Iluarte,  III. 
189,  w. 

Examen  de  Maridos  of  Alarcon,  II.  322, 

III.  189,  n. 


Exem])lar.  Sec  Egemplar. 

Exemplarcs  Novelas,  what,  II.  84,  n. 
See  Novelas. 

Exemplo  Mayor  de  la  Desdicha  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  11.  208,  n. 

Exemplos,  Libro  de  los,  by  Don  Juan 
Manuel,  I.  65,  n. 

Exemplos,  what,  I.  71,  n. 

Eximeno,  Antonio,  on  Don  Quixote,  II. 
116,  n. 

Expedicion  do  Catalanes  of  Moncada, 
HI.  159. 

Expcriencias  do  Amor  of  Quintana,  III. 
51  and  n. 


E. 

Eahles  of  Don  John  Manuel,  I.  71.  Of 
Hita,  80-85.  Of  Leyba,  II.  413. 
Of  Lupcrcio  de  Argensola,  III.  5. 
Of  Yriarte,  279.  Of  Samaniego, 
281. 

Eama  Postuma  of  Lope  de  Vega,  by 
Montalvan,  II.  163,  n.,  298. 

Eantaslas  de  un  Susto,  by  Moya,  III. 
107. 

Earia  y Sousa,  f.  1624.  Noches  Claras, 
III.  188.  Oldest  Portuguese  poetrv, 
1.41. 

E.armer,  Dr.,  on  Montemavor’s  Diana, 
III.  42. 

Earsas  of  Timoneda,  II.  20. 

Earsas  del  Sacramento,  what,  II.  230. 
Eauriel,  Charles,  I.  29,  n.,  313,  n.,  II. 

124,  n..  III.  357,  n. 

Eaust  of  Goethe,  II.  355. 

Eaxardo,  Diego  Saavedra,  his  Princijie 
Christiano,  III.  185.  Republica  Lite- 
raria,  187.  Corona  Gotica,  164. 
Eebrer,  Andres,  f.  1428.  Catalan  poet, 
I.  331. 

Eelices,  Marques  de  San.  See  Moncaip. 
Eeliciana,  daughter  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
1.32. 

Eelicissima  Victoria  do  Lepanto  of 
Cortereal,  II.  492. 

Eclixmarte  of  Hircania,  I.  241 . 

Eenix  de  Espana,  a play,  II.  359,  n. 
Eenollar,  Bernardo,  I.  338,  339. 
Eenouillct,  L’Honnete  Criminel,  III. 
324,  n. 

Eenton,  Sir  Geoffrey,  translations  from 
Guevara,  I.  544. 

Ferdinand  the  Third,  Saint,  d.  1252,  I. 

35  and  n.,  43,  47,  106,  n. 

Ferdinand,  son  of  Charles  v.,  I.  169. 
Fei’dinand  the  Just  of  Aragon,  d.  1416, 
I.  329. 

Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  d.  1516.  Favors 
the  Inquisition,  I.  447,  448. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  prosperity  in 
their  reign,  I 446.  State  of  letters, 
473. 


INDEX. 


523 


Ferdinand  vl.,  d.  1759.  Effects  of  his 
reign  on  letters,  III.  249,  254. 
Ferdinand  vii.,  d.  1833,  III.  345.  Effect 
of  his  reign  on  letters,  Pref.  v..  III. 
306,  310,  346 -.349. 

Feman  Perez  de  Guzman.  See  Guzman. 
Feman  Gonzalez,  a poem,  c.  1380,  I.  91 
-94.  Ballads,  138.  Don  Juan  Ma- 
nuel, 73. 

Fernandez,  Alfonso,  f.  1516,  II.  458. 
Fernandez,  Diogo,  1.  238. 

Fernandez,  Lucas,  f.  1514,  dramatic 
writer,  II.  236,  n. 

Fernandez,  Eomancero,  III.  395. 
Fernandez  y Peralta,  Tales,  III.  106. 
Fernando,  El,  of  Vera  y Figueroa.  I. 

115,  n.,  II.  500,  502,  n. 

Ferreira,  Portuguese  poet,  liis  Castro,  II. 
31  and  n. 

Fen-eira,  Bemarda,  f.  1618,  II.  500, 
502,  n. 

Ferrer,  Bonifacio,  d.  1477.  Bible  in 
Catalan,  I.  345,  n. 

FeiTer,  Juan.  See  Bisbe  y Vidal. 
Ferreras,  the  lustorian.  III.  249. 

Ferrus,  Pero,  I.  394. 

Ferruz,  Maestro,  auto  by,  II.  230. 

Feyjoo,  Benito,  d.  1764,  III.  242.  Tea- 
tro  Cidtico,  and  Cartas  Eruditas,  244. 
Defended  by  Isla,  266,  n. 

Fianza  Satisfecha  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 

221. 

Fiction,  romantic,  end  of  15tli  ccntiuy,  I. 
424  ; time  of  Cervantes,  II.  101.  See 
Romances  of  Chivalry. 

Fictions,  pastoral  prose,  their  origin,  III. 
39.  Popularity,  52.  Incongruities,  53. 
Foundation  in  nature,  54. 

Fictions  in  the  “gusto  picaresco,”  their 
origin  and  history.  III.  55-75. 
Fictions,  serious  and  historical,  time  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  III.  76;  time 
of  Charles  v.,  76,  77  ; time  of  Philip 
ii.,  etc.,  77,  etc.  Small  number  of,  76, 
92. 

Fictions,  short  tales.  III.  93.  Varieties 
in,  104,  108,  110.  Great  number  of, 
117. 

Fictions,  many  suppressed.  III.  88. 
Fiesta  de  los  Carros,  what,  II.  229 
and  n. 

Fiestas  de  Dcnia  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
137,  n. 

Figueroa,  Bart.  Cayrasco  de,  f.  1602. 

His  Templo  Militante,  I.  26,  n. 
Figueroa,  Christ.  Suarez  de,  f 1621.  His 
Constante  Amarilis,  HI.  50.  Opposes 
the  old  drama,  II.  328.  Life  of  Men- 
doza de  Cahete,  465,  n.  Epic,  500,  n. 
Pasagero,  151,  n..  III.  183  and  n. 
Tales,  99. 

Figueroa,  Francisco  de,  d.  1620,  II.  62, 
507  and  ?!.  Blank  verse,  I.  481.  Ec- 
logues, III.  10. 


Figueroa,  Jose  Lorenzo,  translation  of 
Sismondi  on  Spanish  Literature.  1. 
34,  n. 

Figueroa,  Lope  de,  character,  in  Calde- 
ron, II.  57,  ?i.,  367,  n. 

Figueroa,  Roque  de(  actor,  H.  434. 

Figuron,  plays,  what,  II.  405.  Of  Cahi- 
zares,  428. 

Filicaja,  Odes,  II.  51. 

Filida  of  Montalvo,  III.  46. 

Filomona  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  155. 

Filosofia  Antigua  Poetica  of  Pinciano, 
III.  236. 

Fildsofo  del  Aldea  of  Velazquez,  III. 
191. 

Flamenco,  Juan,  Eomancero,  HI.  39.3. 

Flegetonte,  Capitan,  La  Cryselia,  III. 
86,  n.  Eompe  Columnas,  86,  n. 

Flema  de  Pedro  Hernandez  of  Garcia, 
III.  112,  11.3,  n. 

Fletcher,  Custom  of  the  Country,  II. 
100,  n. 

Flor  de  Romances,  III.  33. 

Flora  Malsabadilla,  I.  270,  n. 

Florando  de  Castilla,  by  Huerta,  II.  479 

Flores  of  Espinosa,  II.  515. 

Flores  del  Parnaso,  Sagradas,  III.  228,  n. 

Flores,  Juan  de,  f.  1521.  His  Aurelio  y 
Isabela,  HI.  77. 

Flores,  Miguel  de,  I.  188, 199,  n. 

Flores,  Pedi'o,  collects  ballads,  I.  138,  n., 
HI.  392. 

Florian,  Rodriguez,  f.  1554.  His  Flori- 
nea,  I.  269,  270,  n. 

Florian,  his  Galatee,  II.  63,  n.  His  Gou- 
salve  de  Cordoue,  III.  85.  His  trans- 
lation of  Don  Quixote,  III.  419. 

Florida,  History  of,  by  the  Inca  Gaixi- 
lasso.  III  157. 

Florinca,  imitation  of  Cclestina,  I.  269, 
270,  n. 

Florisando,  romance  of  chivalry,  I.  233. 

Florisel  de  Niquea,  romance  of  chivalrv, 
I.  2.33. 

Foe,  Daniel  De,  on  Don  Quixote,  II 
105,  n.  Ilis  Cavalier,  III.  74. 

Fogaejot,  Troubadour,  I.  3.30. 

Folquet  de  Lunel,  Troubadour,  I.  44.  n. 

Fonda  de  San  Sebastian,  club  of.  III 
274. 

Fonseca,  Luis  Enriquez  de,  f.  1669. 
Drama,  II.  443,  «.,  446,  n. 

Fontana,  architect,  II.  184,  n. 

Fonte  Frida,  ballad,  I.  123. 

Forceps,  Knight  of,  by  Quevedo,  II.  269. 

Ford,  Richard,  Handbook  of  Spain,  II. 
485,  n. 

Forensic  eloquence.  See  Eloquence. 

Foresto,  Felipe,  d.  1520.  His  Supple- 
mentum  Chronicarum,  I.  216,  n. 

Forncr,  Juan  Pablo,  d.  1797.  Works, 
III.  294. 

Foronda,  Valentin,  notes  on  Don  Quix- 
ote, HI.  418. 


524 


INDEX. 


Fortcscue,  T.,  translates  Mcxia,  I.  n. 
Fortuna  y Amor  of  Lo  Frasso,  III.  45. 
Fortunas  de  Andromeda  y Ferseo  of 
Calderon,  II.  361,  n.,  389. 

Frao-oso,  Matos  de._  Sec  Matos. 
Fr.anccsilla  of  Lop^de  Vega,  II.  244. 
Franchi,  Fabio,  friend  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  332. 

Franco,  P.,  translates  Quevedo,  II.  268,  n. 
Franeofurt,  Arnaldo,  on  Quevedo,  II. 
275. 

Frasso,  Antonio  do  lo,  f.  1573.  Prose 
pastoral,  III.  45. 

Freemasonry,  III.  250. 

French  drama,  translated.  III.  318.  Imi- 
tated, 313,  316.  First  original  com- 
edy in  the  French  manner',  318.  First 
acted  dramas  in  the  French  manner, 
319.  Imitations,  320-324.  Contest 
between  the  French  school  and  the 
national  school  in  the  eighteenth  centu- 
ry, 324  - 340.  Ilesult,  341 . 

French  language,  contributions  to  the 
Spanish,  I.  390,  n.,  548. 

French  literature,  influence  on  Spanish, 

III.  120,  232,  250-252. 

Frcrc,  J.  Hookham,  I.  19,  n. 

Frexcnal,  Vasco  Luis  de,  poet,  f.  1547, 

II.  521,  n. 

Frias,  Duke  of,  monument  to  Melendez, 

III.  291,  n. 

Froissart,  I.  181,  245. 

Fryer  Bacon,  tale  of,  II.  213,  n. 
Fuenmayor,  Antonio  de,  f.  1604.  Di- 
dactic prose,  111.  189,  n. 

Fuente  Ovejuna  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
204,  71.,  389,  n. 

Fuentes,  Alonso  de.  Ballad-book,  III. 
27. 

Fuero  .Tuzgo,  13th  cent.,  I.  47,  48  and  n. 

Laws  on  domestic  honor,  II.  393,  n. 
Fuero  Beal  of  Alfonso  el  Sahio,  I.  49. 
Faster.  Pastor,  f.  1830.  Bihlioteca  Va- 
Icnciana,  I.  343,  n. 


G. 

Galan,  Primer,  what,  II.  240. 

Galanteria,  Arte  de,  of  Portugal,  III. 
189. 

Galatea,  La,  of  Cervantes,  II.  61  - 64, 
III.  47.  Tales  in,  117. 

Galatco  of  Dantisco,  III.  187. 

Galiano,  A.  A.,  persecuted.  III.  347. 

Romancero,  395. 

Galician  dialect,  I.  40-42,  550. 

Gallardo  Espanol,  El,  of  Cervantes,  II. 
92. 

Gallego,  Juan  Nicasio,  III.  291,  n. 
Gallegos,  Manuel  de,  d.  1665,  II.  482,  n. 

His  Anaxarete,  541,  n. 

Gamba,  Bibliografia  delle  Novelle,  III. 
118. 


Gamez,  Gutierre  Diez  de,  f.  1453.  Pero 
Nino,  I.  197. 

Gammer  Gurton’s  Needle,  II.  19. 

Ganar  Amigos  of  Alarcon,  II.  320. 
Garay,  Blasco  de,  f.  1550.  Proverbs, 
HI.  171  and  n. 

Gareds,  Gregorio,!.  1798.  His  Vigor  y 
Eloganeia  de  la  Lengua,  III.  223  and 
n.  On  Cervantes,  II.  113,  n.  On 
Diego  de  Mendoza,  I.  527,  n. 

Garcia,  Marcos,  f.  1657.  Talcs,  III.  112. 
Garcia,  Vicent,  d.  1623.  Valencian 
poet,  I.  342. 

Garda  de  Santa  Maria,  Alvar,  f.  1420, 1. 
184. 

Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  d.  1536.  Life,  I. 
486-489.  Works,  490-496.  Death, 

II.  457,  n.  Herrera  on,  510,  n.,  514. 
Elegies,  III.  8.  Eclogues,  10. 

Garil)ay,  chronicler,  1.  555,  n.,  III.  148. 
Gato,  Alvarez,  I.  429,  435,  436  and  ti. 
Gatomachia,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
154. 

Gaya  Sciencia,  what,  I.  103. 

Gayangos,  Pascual  de,  Pref.  viii.,  I.  9,  n., 
70,  n.,  89,  n.,  92,  n.,  95,  ».,  168,  n., 
215,' n.,  359,  n.,  II.  489,  n.,  III.  82,  ti., 
201,  n.,  377,  «.,  432. 

Gayferos  and  Melisendra,  Ballads  on,  I. 
126,  1.33,  71.,  154. 

Gayoso,  f.  1745.  His  Grammar,  III.  222. 
Gayton,  E.,  notes  on  Don  Quixote,  HI. 
420. 

Gazul,  ballads  on,  I.  147. 

Gazull,  Jaume,  I.  339. 

Genealogla  de  Gil  Bias,  by  Calzada,  III. 
267,  71. 

Generaciones  y Semblanzas  of  Feman 
Perez  de  Guzman,  I.  401  and  ??. 
Genest,  translates  Quevedo,  II.  268,  ?!., 
271,  n. 

Genii  of  Espinosa,  III.  13. 

Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  I.  219. 

Gerardo  of  Cespedes,  III.  87.  Tales  in, 

III.  117. 

Gerena,  I.  394. 

German  words  in  Spanish,  I.  548. 
Germania,  what.  III.  32,  n. 

Gerundio,  Fray,  of  Isla,  III.  260. 

Gesta  Eomanonim,  I.  24,  25,  ti.,  III.  97. 
Gigantomachia  of  Gallegos,  II.  482,  n. 
Gigantones,  what,  II.  228. 

Gigantones  de  Madrid  of  Santos,  III. 
117. 

Gil  Bias,  a picaresco  tale,  I.  512,  III.  75. 
Marcos  de  Obregon,  70,  n.  Father 
Isla.  266. 

Gil,  Father  Juan,  and  Cervantes,  II. 
59, 71. 

Gil  de  las  Calzas  Verdes,  Don,  by  Tirso 
de  Molina,  II.  311. 

Gil  y Zarate,  play  on  Charles  ii..  III. 
204,  n. 

Giner,  Miguel,  f.  1587,  II.  495. 


INDEX. 


525 


Gineta,  Libro  de  la,  of  Andrada,  III. 
188. 

Ginffiiene,  on  the  influence  of  the  Ai'ahs, 
III.  374. 

Gitanilla  of  Cen'antes.  11.  85,  420,  III. 
37,  n. 

Glosas,  origin  of,  I.  440,  n. 

Gobevos.  Ant..  pseudon3rme  for  Gavoso, 
III.  222,  n.  ‘ 

Godinez,  Felipe,  dramatist,  11.  323. 
Godov,  Manuel,  Prince  of  the  Peace,  his 
relations  to  Moratin.  III.  307,  334.  Li- 
fluence,  343.  QuaiTcl  with  Ferdinand 
vii.,  344.  ■ 

Godwin,  W.,  I.  19,  n. 

Goethe,  on  Calderon,  II.  377,  n.,  399,  n. 
Goldsmith.  Oliver,  on  Feyjoo,  III.  245,  n. 
Gomara,  Francisco  Lopez  de,  f.  1550. 

Life  of  Cortes,  I.  557,  559. 

Gomes  de  los  Keyes,  Texada,  Eclogues, 
III.  13. 

Gomez,  Ant.  Enriquez.  See  Enriquez. 
Gomez  de  Toledo,  f.  1537.  Segamda 
Celestina,  1.  269. 

Gongora,  Luis  de,  d.  1G26,  II.  521-526. 
Satire.  III.  5.  Epistles,  6.  Epigrams, 
14.  Ballads,  35.  Drama,  li.  324. 
Polifemo,  483.  Relations  with  Lope 
de  Vega,  531.  Ridicules  Boscan,  1. 
480.  School,  11. 527-533.  See  Coro- 
nel;  Cultismo;  2Iardones;  Pellicer ; Sa- 
lazar. 

Gonzalez  de  Bovadilla,  f.  1587.  Ninfas 
de  Ilenares,  III.  48. 

Gonzalez,  Diego,  d.  1794.  Works,  III. 
293,  294.  n. 

Gonzalez,  Estevanillo.  See  Estevanillo. 
Gothic  language  in  Spain,  III.  370-372. 
Goths  in  Spain,  III.  369. 

Governador,  El,  of  Marquez,  III.  184. 
Goyeneche,  Juan,  editor  of  Solis,  II.  422, 
n. 

Gozzi  imitates  Calderon,  II.  402,  n. 
Graal,  Saint,  what,  I.  222,  n. 

Graal  or  Grial,  romance  of  chivalrv,  I. 
244. 

Gracia  Dei,  Pedro,  f.  1520, 1.  183,  n. 
Gracian,  Baltazar,  d.  1658.  His  Cul- 
tismo. III.  191.  His  Works,  192. 
Gracioso,  hints  of,  in  NahaiTO,  I.  301. 
Completed  by  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  244, 
245  and  n.  In  Cervantes,  93.  In 
Calderon,  344,  «.,  401,  n.  Part  of, 
played  by  Lope,  173. 

Gracioso  dramas,  wbat,  II.  406. 

Gradas,  what,  II.  438. 

Grammar,  earliest  in  Spanish,  I.  549. 
Others,  HI.  222. 

Gran  Duque  do  Muscovia  of  Lope  de 
Vega.  II.  207. 

Gran  Tacaiio,  El,  or  Paul  the  Sharper 
of  Segovia,  by  Quevedo,  11.  268.  See 
Delavigne. 

Granada,  capture  of,  central  point  in 


Spanish  history,  I.  458.  Culture  in, 
HI.  375. 

Granada,  Guerra  de,  of  Mendoza,  I.  520, 
III.  158. 

Granada,  Guen’as  Civiles  de,  of  Hita,  III. 
79. 

Granada.  Luis  de,  pulpit  eloquence,  d. 
1588,  III.  123.  Didactic  prose,  176. 
Persecuted,  I.  466. 

Grande  de  Terra,  Pedro,  Muerte  de 
Mnntalvan,  II.  299. 

Grandezas  Divinas,  by  Vivas,  II.  474, 
475,  n. 

Gray,  F.  C.,  Preface,  x. 

Greeks  in  Spain,  III.  360,  361,  n. 
Gregorio  Guadaiia  of  Enriquez,  III.  73,  n. 
Grimm,  Jacob,  on  the  Ballads,  I.  Ill, 
n.  His  Romancero,  HI.  395. 

Griselda,  tale  in  Timoneda.  III.  97,  n. 
Guadalete,  battle  of,  III.  373. 

Guanches  de  Tenerife  of  Lope,  II.  207,  n. 
Guardate  de  Agua  Mansa  of  Calderon, 

H.  382,  395. 

Guarinos,  ballads  on,  I.  154. 

Guarinos.  See  Sempere. 

Gueran,  Troubadour,  I.  330. 

Guen-a,  f.  1682.  Defends  the  drama,  II. 
394  and  n. 

Guen-a  de  Alemana,  by  Avila  y Zuiiiga, 
HI.  14-2,  n. 

Guen-a  de  Granada,  by  hlcndoza,  I.  520 
-5-26. 

Gueiras  Civiles  de  Granada,  by  Hita, 
First  Part,  III.  79.  Second  Part,  83. 
Third  Pai-t,  85,  n.  Tales  in,  117. 
Guen-as  de  los  Estados  Baxos  of  Colo- 
ma,  HI.  160. 

Guerrero,  Vicente,  di-amatist  and  actor, 
c.  1770,  III.  325. 

Guevara,  Aiitonio  de,  d.  1545.  Works, 

I.  540-545,  553.  Golden  Epistles, 
HI.  129. 

Guevara,  Domingo  Luis  de.  III.  331,  u. 
Guevara.  Luis  Velez  de,  d.  1644.  Dra- 
mas, II.  293.  297,  III.  425.  Tales, 

110.  On  the  language,  I.  548,  Ji. 
Guevara,  Pedro  Velez  de,  I.  394. 
Guevara,  Sebastian  Velez  de,  Romancero, 

HI.  392. 

Guia  de  Pecadorcs  of  Luis  de  Granada, 

111.  176. 

Guia  y Avisos  de  Forasteros  of  Lilian  y 
Verdugo,  III.  103,  n. 

Guillaume  de  Bergedan,  Troubadour,  I. 
314. 

Guinart,  Roque  de,  a freebooter,  1.  335. 
Guivara,  I.  435. 

Gusto  Picarcsco,  origin  of,  I.  512,  III.  55. 
Gutierrez,  Juan  Rufo.  See  Rufo. 
Guzman,  Alonso  Perez  de,  letter  to,  by 
Alfonso  the  Wise,  I.  36.  Notice  of, 
38,  n. 

Guzman,  Fcraan  Perez  de,  f.  1460,  I. 
185,  398-402,  429,  435. 


526 


INDEX. 


Guzman,  Francisco  de,  f.  1580.  Didac- 
tic poetry,  III.  18. 

Guzman,  Juan  do,  f.  1589.  Elietorica, 
III.  187. 

Guzman  de  Alfaradie,  First  Part,  III. 
59.  Spurious  Second  Part,  61  and  n. 
Genuine  Second  Part,  61.  Tlieir 
cliaracter,  63.  Tales  in,  117.  See 
Brcinont ; Ens ; Mahhc;  Sage,  Le. 
Guzman  el  Bueno,  by  Guevara,  II.  293  - 
296.  By  Moratin,  III.  319. 

Gvp.sic.s,  tlieir  expulsion  proposed,  III. 
202,  n. 


II. 

llado  y Devisa  of  Calderon,  II.  399. 
Ilacdo,  Diego  dc,  f.  1612.  Ilistoria  de 
Argcl,  II.  58,  59,  n. 

Ilain,  L.,  translation  of  Sismondi,  I.  33,  n. 
llallam,  II.,  earliest  Castilian,  III.  383,  n. 
Hamlet,  by  Moratin,  III.  339. 

Ilammen,  Lorenzo  Vandcr,  friend  of 
Quevedo,  II.  273  and  ii. 

Hardy,  French  dramatist,  II.  431  and  n., 
III.  119. 

Haro,  Count.  El  Bueno,  I.  196. 

Ilaro,  Diego  Lopez  de,  I.  435  and  n.,436. 
Hautcrorhe  and  Calderon,  II.  383,  n. 
Hayley,  W.,  and  the  Araucana,  II.  464,  n. 
Hazanas  de  Bernardo,  by  Alonzo,  II.  477. 
Ilazanas,  El  de  las.  See  Pulgar. 
Ileliodorus,  Thcagencs  and  Charielea,  I. 
245,  n.,  II.  102,  n. 

Hellowes,  Edward,  translations  from 
Guevara,  I.  544,  n.  545,  a. 

Henry,  Prince  of  Portugal,  I.  206,  II. 
378,  7). 

Henry  iv.  of  Castile,  d.  1474,  1.  415.  A 
poet,  443.  Decay  of  letters,  473. 
Henry  iv.  of  France,  protects  Antonio 
Perez,  III.  132. 

Heraclito  y Democrito  of  Ant.  de  Vega, 
III.  186,  7,. 

Herbas,  Jose  Gerardo  de,  f.  1737.  Satire, 
III.  228. 

Hercules  Furens  of  Zarate,  II.  548. 
Hercules.  See  Trabajos. 

Heredia,  Fernandez,  d.  1549, 1.  341,  441, 
442,  71. 

Heredia,  Juan  Francisco  Fern,  de,  f. 

1683.  Didactic  prose.  III.  195. 
Hermandad,  what,  III.  32. 

Hermosa  Ester  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  222 
and  n. 

Hermosa  Fea  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  180. 
Hermosilla,  Juicio  Critico,  III.  293,  n. 
.308,  77. 

Hermosura  de  Angelica.  See  A7ig6Uca. 
Hcmandia,  La,  of  Kuiz  de  Leon,  III. 
306, 71. 

Hero  and  Leander  of  Boscan,  III.  13. 
Herod,  in  Calderon,  II.  371. 


Heroic  and  Narrative  Poems,  11.483,  491. 

Failure  of,  502  - 504. 

IIciTera,  Christ.  Perez  de,  f.  1618,  III. 
173, 71. 

Herrera,  Antonio  de,  d.  1625.  Ilistoria, 
III.  153. 

Herrera,  Fernando  de,  d.  1597.  Life,  II. 
509  and  7i.  Poetry,  510.  Lost  works, 
510,  n.  Canzones  and  odes,  511.  His 
poetical  language,  513.  Elegies,  III. 
9.  Admired  by  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  531, 
71.  Edition  of  Garcilasso,  I.  486,  494. 
Herrera,  Bodrigo  dc,  dramatist,  II.  323. 
Ilespana  Libertada,  by  FeiTcira,  II.  500, 
502,  71. 

Hidalgo,  Caspar  Lucas  de,  f.  1605. 
Tales,  HI.  98. 

Hidalgo,  Juan,  ballads.  III.  32. 

Higuera,  Father,  d.  1 624.  Forges  certain 
Chroniconcs,  III.  152. 

Hijo  de  Marco  Aurclio,  by  Zabalcta.  II. 
414,  77. 

Hinard,  Damas,  Bomancero,  III.  395. 
Hipolito  y Aminta  of  Quintana,  II.  102, 

n. 

Ilistoria  de  Tobias  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 

222. 

Historias  Fabulosas  of  Antonio,  III.  153, 

77. 

Ilistoria  General  of  Ilen'cra,  III.  153. 
Ilistoria  General  dc  Espaiia  of  Mari- 
ana, III.  147.  Credulity,  149.  Many 
emendations,  148,  77.  Archaisms,  149. 
Bich  style,  149.  Speeches  and  char- 
acter-drawing, 150.  Merits,  150.  At- 
tacks on,  150,  151, 77. 

Historia  Parthenopea,  poem  of  Fernan- 
dez, II.  458. 

IIi,storians,  Spanish,  III.  138.  How 
made  cautious,  152, 77.  Their  general 
character,  167.  Great  numbers  for 
provinces  and  cities,  168,  n.  See 
Chro77  7cles. 

Historians,  Spanish,  ecclesiastical.  III. 
142,  143,  77. 

Historias  Peregrinas  of  Cespedes,  HI. 
107. 

Historical  Eomancc.  See  Fictio77S,  Se7-i- 
ous. 

Hita,  Archpriest  of,  f.  1343.  Life,  I. 

78.  Works,  79-86.  Apologues,  84. 
Character,  85.  Verses  by,  116,  77. 
Ballads  like,  150.  Satirical,  HI.  3. 

Hita,  Gines  Perez  de,  f.  1 600.  GueiTas 
Civiles  de  Granada,  HI.  79.  BaUads, 
31. 

Hojeda,  the  discoverer,  1.  211. 

Hojeda,  Diego  de,  f.  1611.  His  Christi- 
ada,  II.  473. 

Holcroft,  T.,  translates  from  Lope  de 
Vega,  II.  235. 

Holland,  Lord,  Preface,  ix.  Life  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  etc.,  I.  487,  77.,  II.  120,  7/., 
205,  n.,  III.  304,  77. 


INDEX. 


527 


Holy  League,  II.  55. 

Ilormesinila  of  N.  F.  Moratin,  III.  .319. 
Horace,  translations  of,  by  Luis  de  Leon, 

II.  48  ; the  Argensolas,  535  ; Cascales, 

III.  236;  Espiuel,  19,  20,  n.;  Yriarte, 
278. 

Horosco,  Alonso,  f.  1568.  Keyna  Saba, 
III.  181,  n. 

Hospitals,  their  interest  in  the  theati-e,  II. 
36.  Support  the  cause  of  the  drama, 
330.  Suffer  by  it  sometimes,  331,  n. 
Ilonrador  de  su  Fadre  by  Diamante,  II. 
416. 

Howell,  Letters,  II.  393. 

Hoyos,  Lope  de,  teacher  of  Cervantes, 

II.  54. 

Hoz,  Juan  de  la,  f.  1689,  II.  417. 

Hozes,  Hernando  de,  his  Triunfos  de 
Petrarca,  I.  496,  n. 

Huarte,  Juan  de,  f.  1566.  Examen  de 
Ingenios,  III.  189,  n.  See  Lessing. 
Huber,  V.  A.,  History  of  the  Cid,  I. 
13,  n.  On  the  ballads,  I.  129,  III. 
395,  n.  Edits  Cronica  del  Cid,  1. 169. 
Huerta,  Antonio  Sigler,  dramas,  II.  144. 
Huerta,  Geronimo  de,  f.  1588,  II.  479. 
Huerta,  Vicente  Garcia,  d.  1787.  Poems, 

III.  271.  Dramas,  322.  Teatro  Hes- 
paiiol,  329. 

Huet,  on  the  origin  of  rhyme.  III.  374. 
Huete,  Jaume  de,  c.  1535.  Dramatist, 
II.  8. 

Hugalde  y Mollinedo,  Nicolas,  transla- 
tion of  Bouterwek’s  History  of  Span- 
ish Literature,  I.  33,  n. 

Hugo,  Victor,  Notre  Dame  de  Paris,  II. 
422,  n. 

Hugucs  de  Mataplana,  Troubadour,  I. 
314. 

Hugues  de  St.  Cyr,  Troubadour,  I.  313. 
Humboldt,  W.  von,  on  the  Bascpie,  III. 
357,  «.,  1.  109,  n. 

Humboldt,  Alex,  von,  on  Columbus,  I. 
211,  n.  On  Orsua  and  Aguirre,  II. 
468. 

Hurtado,  Luis,  f.  1550.  Palmerin  of 
England,  I.  237. 

Hymenea  of  Nahan-o,  1.  299. 
Hypochondiia,  when  first  noticed,  II. 
162. 


I. 

Ibanez,  a dramatist,  c.  1770,  III.  325. 
Iberiada  of  Savariego,  II.  499. 

Iberians  in  Spain,  III.  356. 

Idea  de  un  Principe  of  Faxardo,  III. 
185. 

Iglesias,  Josef,  d.  1797.  Works,  III. 
294,  295. 

Imperial,  Francisco,  I.  393,  429. 
Improvisation  in  Spain,  II.  252  - 254, 
325. 


Index  Expurgatorius,  first,  I.  462.  Last, 
III.  343,  .344,  n. 

Inedita,  III.  432. 

Infamador,  El,  of  Malara,  II.  26. 

Infante,  Libro  del,  by  D.  Juan  Manuel, 
I.  65,  n. 

ingenio  de  esta  Corte,  Un,  plays  by,  II. 
325. 

Ingeniosa  Helena  of  Barbadillo,  1. 270,n.. 
HI.  99. 

Inglis,  Rambles  in  the  Footsteps  of  Don 
Quixote,  II.  103, 71. 

Inquisition,  origin  among  the  Albigen- 
ses,  I.  312,  447.  Established  in  Spain, 
448.  Its  power,  450,  and  popularity, 
451,  465,  466,  III.  206.  Forbids  heret- 
ical books,  1.461.  Punishes  persons 
keeping  heretical  books,  462.  Inter- 
feres with  the  press,  462.  Publishes 
an  Index  Expurgatorius,  462.  Pun- 
ishment of  confiscation  and  death  to 
those  who  use  prohibited  books,  463. 
Vast  power,  465. , Persecutes  men  of 
letters,  466.  Triumphant  in  the  time 
of  Philip  ii.,  467.  Persecutes  Luis  de 
Leon,  II.  42  and  «.,  43.  Assails  the 
theatre,  3,  8 ; Quevedo,  260  ; the  Dia- 
blo Predicador,  327  ; Tirso  cle  Molina, 
309  ; Guevara,  297,  n.  Does  not  for- 
bid the  Celestina,  I.  268,  n.  Lope  de 
Vega  a familiar,  II.  134,  146  ; an  offi- 
cer at  an  Auto  da  Fe,  157.  Power  in 
the  17th  century.  Hi.  205  ; under 
Philip  v.,t246-248;  Ferdinand  vi., 
249  ; Charles  iii.,  257  ; Charles  iv., 
343  ; Ferdinand  vii.,  346.  Abolished, 
347,  n. 

Intolerance,  Spanish,  origin  of,  I.  446, 
447,  n.  Becomes  sombre  and  fierce, 
451,465.  Grows  general,  468.  Effects 
on  intellectual  ctiltivation,  468  - 470  ; 
on  the  national  character  and  power, 
471.  One  cause  of  bad  taste  in  Spain, 
H.  519.  Strong  under  Philip  v.,  HI. 
246-249.  Relaxes  under  Ferdinand 
vi.,  249.  See  Ltquisiiion. 

Introyto,  what,  I.  297. 

Invencion  de  la  Cruz  of  Zarate,  H.  486, 
487,  n. 

Invenciones,  what,  I.  438. 

Inventario  of  Villegas,  HI.  93. 

Inven tores  de  las  Cosas,  by  Cueva,  IH. 

20. 

Iriarte.  See  Yi-iai'te. 

Irlos,  Count,  ballad,  I.  126,  133. 

Irving,  Washington,  Preface,  viii.,  I.  211. 

Isabela  of  L.  L.  de  Argcnsola,  H.  33. 

Isabella  the  Catholic,  d.  1504.  Favors 
the  Inquisition,  I.  448.  Patronizes 
learning,  549.  Her  letters,  HI.  128, 
129,  n. 

Isidore,  St.,  of  Seville,  d.  636.  His 
Latinitv,  III.  367  ; Spanish  words  in, 
367,  n.' 


528 


INDEX. 


Isidro  cl  Labrador,  Sau,  his  life  and 
miracles,  II.  134.  Lope’s  poem  on, 
135.  Festival  on  his  beatification,  149 
- 152.  Festival  on  his  canonization, 
152-155.  Lope’s  plays  on,  224  and  n., 
242. 

Isla,  J.  F.  dc,  d.  1781,  III.  258.  Ilis 
Juventud  Triunfante,  258.  Dia  Gran- 
de, 259.  Sermons,  259.  Friar  Gerund, 
200.  Cicero,  264.  Gil  Bias,  206.  Sat- 
ire of  Pitillas  attributed  to,  229,  n. 

Isocrates,  translated  by  Mexia,  I.  538,  n. 

Italian  language,  influence  on  Spanish, 

1.  351,  .548. 

Italian  school  in  Spanish  literatiu'c,  I. 
474-490.  Contest  about,  501.  Suc- 
cess settled,  508.  Influence  on  l)Tical 
poetry,  II.  505 ; on  prose  composition, 
I.  531,  532,  ?!.,  535  ; on  romantic  fie 
tion,  III.  39,  79  ; on  prose  pastorals, 
40.  Lope  de  Vega’s  relations  to,  II. 
104. 

Italy,  early  influence  on  Spain,  I.  340  - 
351  ; time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
474;  time  of  Charles  v.,  475.  Glory 
of,  476, 477.  Continued  influence,  497. 


J. 

Jacinta,  drama,  II.  9,  n.;  of  Ton'es  Na- 
haiTO,  I.  297. 

Jacinto,  San,  Justa  Poetica,  II.  79. 
Jacobina  of  Damian  de  Vegas,  II.  277. 
Jael  of  Sedano,  III.  329. 

Jardin  de  Flores  of  Torcpiemada,  III. 
174. 

Jarv'is,  his  translation  of  Don  Quixote, 
III.  419. 

Jaumc  i.  of  Aragon,  d.  1276, 1.  314.  His 
Chronicle,  315.  Conquest  of  Valen- 
cia, 316.  Notice  of,  by  Muntaner,  317. 
Jaume  ii.  of  Aragon,  d.  1327, 1.  323. 
Jauregui,  Juan  de,  f.  1640.  Ilis  Orfeo, 

II.  299.  His  Works,  539.  Attacks 
Gongora,  532.  Festival  of  San  Isidro, 
152.  Satire,  III.  4. 

Jerusalen  Conquistada  of  Lope,  II.  143. 
Jesuits,  expulsion  of,  III.  256.  In  Italy, 
428. 

Jews,  hatred  of,  I.  446.  Early  perse- 
cuted, 448.  Persecuted  in  the  times 
of  Philip  V.  and  Ferdinand  vi..  III. 
248,  249. 

Job,  by  Luis  de  Leon,  II.  45. 

Joglaressa,  I.  116. 

John  i.  of  Aragon,  d.  1395, 1.  327,  329. 
John  ii.  of  Aragon,  d.  1479,  I.  329. 

John  ii.  of  Castile,  d.  1454.  His  reign, 
I.  352.  A poet,  355  - 357,  443.  Dearth, 
396.  Decay  of  letters  in  his  time, 
473. 

John,  Bishop  of  Seville,  Bible  in  Arabic, 

III.  378. 


John,  Don,  of  Austria,  d.  1578.  Com- 
mands in  the  Holy  League,  II.  55-57. 
Play  of  Montalvan,  301 ; of  Zamora, 
426.  Inquisition,  I.  467.  Fame,  II. 
491,  n. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  rcad^  Felixmarte  of 
Hircania,  I.  241 . On  Castiglione,  481. 
Joinville,  chronicler,  I.  216,  n. 

Jonson,  lien,  on  Aleman,  III.  64. 

Jordi,  Troubadour,  f.  1460,  I.  330  and  n. 
Joniadas,  what,  I.  296,  II.  93  and  n.,  178. 
As  acted,  Primera,  443  ; Segunda  and 
Tercera,  445. 

Joni.adas  Alegres  of  Solorzano,  HI. 
109, 71.  ■ 

Jos6,  Poema  de,  c.  1400,1.  94.  Stoiy  of 
Joseph,  from  the  Koran,  95.  Its  Ori- 
ental character,  97.  The  Poem  itself, 
III.  432. 

Josejjh  de  las  Mugeres  of  Calderon,  II. 
355. 

Joustings,  Poetical.  Sec  Justus. 
Jovellanos,  Gaspar  Melchior  de,  d.  1811, 
III.  297-304.  Dramas,  323.  Favors 
Llorente,  I.  453,  n.  On  tlie  immorality 
of  the  old  theatre,  II.  216,  n. 

Juan,  Don,  the  poetical  character  of,  II. 
309,  310  and  n. 

Juan,  Marques  de  San,  f.  1713.  Ciima, 
HI.  312. 

Juan  Manuel,  Don.  See  Manuel. 
Judgment,  Last,  by  Berceo,  I.  28,  29,  n., 
32. 

Juglares,  what,  1.  116,  n. 

Julius  iii..  Pope,  and  Mendoza,  I.  515. 
Justas  Poeticas,  I.  338,  II.  150,  151,  n. 
At  Saragossa,  79.  Cervantes  on, 
335,  n. 

Justa  Venganza,  attack  on  Quevedo,  II. 
275. 

Juventud  Triunfante  of  Isla,  IH.  258. 


K. 

Keil,  J.  J.,  edition  of  Calderon,  II.  343,  n. 
Keller,  A.,  edition  of  Conde  Lucanor,  I. 

75,  n.  Bomancero  del  Cid,  141. 
Klopstock,  Odes,  II.  51. 

Knight-en-antry  in  Spain,  I.  250,  251. 
Knight  of  the  Bright  Star,  a romance,  I. 
246. 


L. 

Labyrinth  of  Juan  de  Mena,  I.  384. 
Lacordaire  on  the  Inquisition,  I.  448. 
Ladino,  what,  III.  377,  n.,  386,  n. 
Lafayette,  Madame  de  la,  Zayde,  HI. 
119. 

Lafontaine,  Peasant  of  the  Danube,  I. 
542,  >?. 

Lainez,  Pedro,  in  the  Galatea,  II.  62. 


INDEX. 


529 


Lamarca,  Francisco  Loubayssin  dc,  f. 
1617.  Enriqiio  de  Castro,  III.  87,  88, 
n. 

Ijampillas,  Fran.  Xavier,  d.  1810. 
Comedias  of  Cervantes,  II.  96  and 
n.  Defence  of  Spanish  Literature, 
III.  429. 

Lances  de  Calderon,  what,  II.  .362,  n. 
Lando,  Ferrant  Manuel  de,  I.  394,  429. 
Lang'tou.  jilgernou,  Marcos  do  Oliregon, 
III.  69,  n. 

Lang-uage,  Spanish.  See  Spanish  Lan- 
qnwje. 

Lanini,  Pedro  Fr.,  dramatist.  11.  427. 
Lanuza,  pscudonyme  fur  Luzan,  III. 
239,  n. 

Lanz,  Karl,  Muntancr,  I.  318,  n. 
Laquerica,  Juan  Ifiiguez,  Komancero, 
III.  393. 

Lara,  Infantes  de,  ladlads  on,  I.  139. 
Vacnius,  engravings  of,  139.  n.  From 
Crunica  General,  139,  «.,  161,  163,  n. 
Play  of  Lope,  II.  206. 

Lara,  Agustiii  de,  f.  1682.  OlielLsco 
Fimebrc  de  Calderon,  II.  .333,  n.,  339, 
n. 

Lara,  P.  M.,  f.  1726.  Poem  on  St.  .Je- 
rome. III.  227,  n. 

Lardizabal  y Uribe,  Manuel,  I.  48,  n. 
Larra,  his  Doncel  do  Don  Enri(pte,  I. 

358,  n.,  365,  n.  Ilis  Macias,  ib. 
Jjarramendi,  Del  Basetiense,  III.  357,  n. 
Lassal.a,  drama  by.  III.  329. 

Lasso  de  la  A^ega,  Gabriel,  f.  1594,  II. 
467. 

Latin  language  in  Spain.  III.  362. 
Writers  in  it  there,  364  and  n.  Its 
great  diffusion.  366.  Effect  of  Chris- 
tianity on,  366,  n.  Corrupted,  367, 
380.  Basis  of  the  Spanish,  371,  385 
and  n.,  II.  521,  n. 

Latiims,  of  Villegas,  II.  543. 

Latiniparla,  what.  III.  218. 

Latino,  .Juan,  a negro,  f.  1573,  11.  491,  n. 
Latro,  Portius,  III.  31)4. 

Laurel  de  Apolo  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
160. 

I.avigne,  earliest  Spanislt  dramas,  I.  259, 
n.  Translation  of  Celestina,  271,  n. 
Of  Quevedo,  II.  268. 

L.azarillo  de  Tonnes,  by  Mendoza,  1. 
511-514,111.58. 

Leaden  Books  of  Granada,  HI.  152,  n. 
Leandro  of  Boscan,  I.  480. 

Leandro  the  Fair,  a romance  of  chivalry, 
I.  2.34. 

Lebrixa,  Antonio  de,  chronicle  attributed 
to,  I.  190,  n.  Scholarslnp,  349,  47,3. 
Dictionary  .and  Grammar,  549,  III. 
222,  n.  Orthography,  220. 

Lebrixa,  Marcelo  do,  f.  1522.  Ilis  Tri- 
aca,  II.  5,  n. 

Ledel,  Jacques,  his  .Joinville,  I 217,  n. 
Ledesma,  Alonzo  dc,  d.  162.3,  II.  517. 

VOL.  III.  67 


Jjoganitos,  Taivoga,  II.  278,  279  and  n. 
Lemos,  Count  of,  Alarquis  of  Sarria,  etc., 
d.  1622,  11.  loi  and  97  and  253. 
Jjcmos,  Countess  of,  III.  251. 

Lenox,  Mrs.,  imitation  of  Don  Quixote, 
III.  421. 

Lenti,scar  de  Cartagena  of  Campillo  do 
Bayle,  III.  106,  li. 

Ia'o  X.,  age  of,  I.  477. 

Leon,  Imis  de,  d.  1591.  Birth  and  edu- 
cation, II  40.  Professor  at  Salaman- 
ca, 41.  Troubles  witli  the  Inf[uisition 
about  a version  of  Solomon’s  Song,  42, 
I.  466.  His  Names  of  Chri.st,  II.  43. 
Ui.s  Petfect  Wife,  .and  .Job,  45.  His 
illness  and  death,  46.  His  i>oems,  47 
-51,  509.  His  eloquence,  HI.  123. 
Edits  Sta.  Teresa,  179.  Is  imitated 
by  Gonz.alez,  29.3. 

Leon,  Melchior  de,  finishes  Calderon’s 
last  auto,  H.  339.  Dr.amas,  429. 

Leon  de  Espana  of  Vezilla  Castellanos, 
H.  494. 

Leon  Marcante,  Manuel  de,  f.  1690. 

Poet,  11.  549  and  ». 

Jjcon  Proiligioso  of  Texada,  HI.  90. 
Lepanto,  battle  of,  Cervantes  fights  in,  H. 
56.  Cortcreal’s  poem  on,  492.  Her- 
rera’s ode  on,  511. 

J..epolcmo,  a romance,  I.  242. 

Jjenna,  Pedro  de,  I.  294,  n. 

J.e  Sage.  See  Sage,  Lc. 

Lessing,  G.  E.,  translation  of  Huarte,  HI. 

189,  n.  On  Montiano,  317,  n. 
L’Estrange,  Sir  K.,  translates  Quevedo, 

H.  271,  11. 

J.ctrados,  what,  I.  101  and  n. 

J.etrillas,  1.  149. 

J.ewis,  M.  G.,  his  C.astic  Spectre,  HI.  309. 
Ley  Agraria  of  .Jovellanos,  HI.  300. 
Ix'vba,  Antonio,  dramatist,  f.  1670,  H. 
41.3. 

Libre  dc  Ics  Doncs,  by  Koig,  I.  336,  n. 
Lieinian,  HI.  307. 

Jjima  Fundada  of  Baniucvo,  HI.  220. 
Thiian,  Pedro  de,  f.  1605,  H.  515. 

Lilian  y Verdugo,  Antonio,  f.  1620. 
Talcs,  HI.  103. 

Lindo  Don  Diego  of  Moreto,  H.  405. 
Lisseno  y Fenisa  of  Parraga,  HI.  92. 
n. 

Lisuartc  of  Greece,  romance  of  chivalrv. 

I.  2.33. 

Literature,  origin  of,  in  different  coun- 
tries of  modern  Europe,  I.  3.  Periods 
in  which  it  has  flourished,  457. 
Literature,  Spanish.  Sec  Spanish  Litera- 
ture. 

Jjlagnno  y Amirola,  translates  Athalie, 
HI.  3ll 

Jjlanos,  Rafael  Gonzalez,  on  the  Fuero.s 
de  Aviles,  HI.  .382,  n. 

Llorcntc,  Antonio,  d.  1823.  History  of 
the  Inquisition,  I.  453,  n.  Edits  Las 

SS 


530 


INDEX. 


Casa.s,  5GG.  On  Gil  Bias,  III.  2G7, 
2G8,  n. 

Loaisa,  the  iliscovcrcr,  I.  211. 

Loas,  what,  II.  230,  441.  Of  Lope,  231. 
Of  Calderon,  343.  Of  other.s,  442. 

Loaysa,  f.  I.G.’IS.  Letters  to  Charles  v., 
III.  145,  ». 

Lobeira,  A^asco  de,  d.  140.3.  Amadis  de 
Gaula,  1.  221. 

Lohera,  dramatist.  III.  325. 

Loho,  Eugenio,  f.  1738.  Poems,  III. 
227.  Dramas,  31 3v 

Loho,  Franc.  Kodriguez  de,  his  Pruna- 
vera.  III.  53,  n. 

Lockhart,  J.  G.,  his  translations  of 
Spanish  ballads,  1.  127,  145,  «.,  III. 
305.  Edition  of  Motteux’s  translation 
of  Don  Quixote,  420. 

Lo  Frasso.  See  Fnisso. 

Lognino,  Auto  da  Fc  de.  III.  204,  n. 

Longfellow,  II.  W.,  1.  19,  n.,  32,  n., 
408,  }i. 

Lope.  See  Ver/a,  Lope  de. 

Lope,  a name  for  every  thing  good,  II. 
250  and  a. 

Lope,  son  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  123,  n , 
132,  1.33,  152,  1G9,  ». 

Lopez,  Alonzo,  (El  Pinciano,)  f.  159G. 
Filosofia  Antigua  Po^tiea,  III.  23_G. 
Glossary,  218  and  n.  Opposes  the 
old  drama,  II.  328. 

Lopez,  Manuel,  Colleetlon  of  Plays,  III. 
426. 

Lorenzo,  San,  liy  Bercco,  I.  28. 

Lorenzo  Segura,  Juan,  poet,  f.  13th  cent., 
I.  5G-G1. 

Louliayssin  de  Lamarca.  See  Lamar- 
ca. 

Love  the  Most  Powerful  of  Enchant- 
ments, a ])lay  of  Calderon,  II.  390. 

Loyal  Servitenr,  I.  197,  n. 

Loyalty,  a prominent  trait  in  Spanish 
literature,  I.  103,  127, «.,  145.  Decay 
of.  III.  207,  208,  1.  468,  II.  503. 

Loyola,  poem  of  Escoliar,  II.  474,  475, 
71.  Of  Camargo,  474,  475,  n. 

Lozano.  Christoval.  f.  16G0.  Reyes  Nu- 
evos  de  Toledo,  III.  91.  Tales,  108. 
Didactie  prose,  195. 

Lucan,Pharsalia,hy  Jauregui.II.  532,  n., 
540. 

Lucanor,  Conde,  I.  70-  75,  84,  n.  Edi- 
tions of,  75, 71.  See  Ma7incl,  Doti  Juan. 

Lucas,  Bi.shop  of  Tuy,  I.  167,  n. 

Lucena,  Juan  de,  f.  1453.  Vita  Bcata, 
I.  415. 

Lucero  de  la  Tierra  Santa,  poem  by 
Escobar  Caheza  de  la  Vaca,  I.  274. 

Lucrecia  of  N.  F.  Moratin,  III.  319. 

Ludolphus  of  Saxony,  I.  414,  n. 

Luduena,  Comendador,  I.  442,  n.  Di- 
dactic poetry.  III.  17. 

Lugo,  Francisco,  f.  1622.  Talcs,  III. 
103. 


Luis  Perez  cl  Gallcgo  of  Calderon,  II. 
361. 

Luna,  Alvaro  de,  lament  for,  I.  186. 
Ballad  on,  ib.,  n.  Ills  Chronicle,  198  - 
200.  Entremeses,  259.  His  iniluencc. 
352.  Santillana’s  poem  on,  374.  Po- 
etry by,  443  and  n.  Date  of  his  death. 
111.  401. 

Luna,  ,Tuan  de.  Second  Part  of  Lazarillo. 
I.  51.3. 

Luna,  Miguel  de,  f.  1589.  His  Rey  Ro- 
drigo, I.  215,  n. 

Luna  do  la  Siena,  by  Guevara,  11.  296. 
Luther.  Sec  Ufonnation. 

Lu.xan,  Pedro  de,  f 1563,  I.  234. 

Luzan,  Ignacio  do.  d.  1754,  HI.  2.33.  His 
Arte  i’oetica,  235.  Other  works,  238. 
239,  n.  Academia  del  Buen  Gusto. 
251.  Translates  from  Metastasio,  315, 
and  Lachaussee,  .318. 

Luz  del  Alma  of  Roca  y Scnia,  II.  528 

and  71. 

Luzindaro  y Medusina,  HI.  77. 

Lyric  poetry,  earliest,  I.  29,  n.,  II.  505. 
Time  of  Charles  v.,  505.  Italian  in- 
fluence on,  506.  State  from  Charles  v. 
to  Philip  V.,  505  - 549.  Character  of 
its  religious  portions,  550 ; of  its  secu- 
lar jiortions,  550-552.  State  under 
Philip  V.,  III.  227. 


M. 

Mabbc,  .James,  translates  Celestina,  1 
272,  n. ; tales  of  Cervantes,  II.  88,  n. ; 
Guzman  de  Alfarache,  111.  64,  n. 
Macaheo  of  Silveira,  II.  485. 

Macanaz,  persecuted.  III.  246,  248. 
Machuea,  Pedro  do  Vargas,  f 1629,  H. 

150,  71.  Licenses  plays,  204.  n. 

Macias  el  Enamorado,  f.  1420,  I.  364. 

365  and  n.,  429  Play  by  Lojie,  11. 190. 
McCrie,  Thomas,  I.  460,  n. 

Madonna,  poems  on,  by  Bcrceo,  I.  28. 

29,  n.  Miracles  of,  by  Bercco,  28,  30. 
Madrid,  the  cajiital  of  Spain.  II.  276. 

Theatres  in,  .36-39,  4.33,  HI.  314. 
Madrigal,  Miguel  de,  Romancero,  HI 
394.' 

Magdalena,  La,  of  Malon  de  Chaidc.  HI. 
180. 

Magellanes,  the  discoverer.  I.  241 . 
Magestad,  how  used,  HI.  207,  n. 

Mauico  Prodigioso  of  Calderon,  H.  355. 
360. 

Mahon,  Lord,  HI.  215,  7i. 

Maiquez,  an  aetor.  HI.  340. 

Malara,  .Juan  de,  f.  1580.  Dramatist,  H. 

26  Proverbs,  HI.  172,  173,  «. 

Mai  Casados  de  Valencia,  play  of  Guillen 
de  Castro,  H.  284. 

Malcolm.  Sir  .1.,  Sketches  of  Persia.  I 
72,  n. 


INDEX. 


5:31 


Maldonado,  Alonso,  Chronica  Universal, 
III.  15.3.  n. 

Maldonado,  Lopez  de,  f 1586.  Poetry, 

II.  508.  Epigrams,  III.  14.  Ballads, 
35. 

Male,  Gnillaumc  van,  or  Malinceus,  d. 
1560.  Correspondence,  I.  497,  499, «., 

III.  142,  H. 

Mai  Lara.  See  Alalara. 

Malon  de  Cliaide,  poctiy,  II.  517,  n. 

Magdalena,  III.  181. 

Malslinrg,  translation  of  Calderon,  II. 
390,  ». 

Maltea,  La,  of  Sanz,  II.  457. 

Malncas.  Conqnista  de,  of  Argensola, 
III.  155. 

Manana  de  San  Juan,  II.  156. 
^Mandeville,  Sir  J.,  I.  189,  n. 

Mandeville,  the  Spanisli,  III.  175. 

Manoel  de  Portugal,  jjoct.  Sec  Portuynl. 
Manrique,  Gomez,  f.  1482,  I.  404. 
Manrique,  Jorge,  d.  1479.  Ills  Cojilas, 
I.  196,  «.,  406-409.  Poems,  435, 
442,  n. 

^lanrique,  Pedro,  d.  1440,  I.  403. 
Manrique,  Rodrigo,  d.  1476,  1.  404. 
iManso  of  Naples,  II.  537. 

Mantua,  IMarquis  of,  ballad  on,  I.  126, 
1.33. 

Mantuano,  Pedro,  on  Mariana,  III.  150,  n. 
Manuel,  Don  Juan,  of  Ca.stile,  d.  1347. 
Life,  I.  61.  Works,  65,  ti.  Story  by, 
66.  Letter  to  his  brother,  68.  Coun- 
sels to  his  son,  69.  Book  of  the  Knight 
and  Esquire,  69.  Condo  Lucanor,  70. 
Style,  74,  n.  Character,  75.  Ballads, 
117.  Proverbs,  III.  170. 

Manuel,  Don  Juan,  of  Portugal,  f.  1497, 
I,  66,  a.,  120,  441.  III.  17. 

Marcante,  iManuel  do  Leon.  Sec  Leon. 
Marcela,  daughter  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 

132  and  n.,  163,  284. 

March,  Ausias,  f.  1450,  I.  331  - .333. 
March,  Jacme,  f.  1371,  I.  325. 

Marche,  Olivier  de  la,  1.  498. 

Marco  Aurelio  of  Guevara,  I.  541. 
Marcos  de  Obregon  of  Espinch  III-  67  - 
70.117.  tico  Lam/ton ; Sayc,  Le ; TieeJe; 
Voltaire. 

Marcus  Maximus,  forged  chronicle  of, 
III.  152,  n. 

Mardoves.  See  Salazar. 

Maria.,  Santa,  a Jewish  family.  I.  399. 

Pablo,  d.  1432,  Alonso,  d.  1435,  ib. 
IMariana,  Juan  do,  d.  1623.  A Jesuit,  III. 
143.  Persecuted,  I.  466,  III.  144. 
Praises  the  Inquisition,  I.  448,  n.  Ilis 
works.  III.  145.  History  of  Spain, 
147-150.  De  Spectaculis,  II.  330, 
430,  n. 

Marie  de  France,  I.  84,  n. 

Marina,  Fr.  hlartinez,  1.  13,  n. 

Marina,  on  the  earliest  Castilian,  HI. 
382. 


Marineo,  Lucio,  I.  473. 

Mariner,  translates  Ausias  March.  1. 
333,  n. 

Marinisti,  II.  520. 

Marlowe's  Faustus,  II.  73. 

JIarmol,  Luis  del,  f.  1600,  1.  447,  n. 

Marquez,  Juan,  f.  1612.  El  Governador, 
III.  184. 

Marriage  of  the  Soul  and  Divine  Love, 
by  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  173. 

Marti,  Juan,  f.  1603,  III.  61. 

Martial,  a Spaniard,  HI.  364. 

Martin  of  Aragon,  d.  1409,  I.  328. 

Martinez,  Ant.,  dramatist,  H.  427,  IH. 
425. 

Martinez,  Eugenio,  his  Genealogla  do  la 
Toledaua  Discreta,  H.  107,  n. 

Martorell,  Joannot,  I.  331. 

Martyr,  Peter,  1.  473. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  Lope  de  Vega's 
poem  on,  H.  159. 

Mary,  St.,  the  Egyptian,  poem  on,  13th 
cent.,  I.  25.  Notices  of,  26,  n. 

Masdovelles,  Beronguer  de,  Trouliadour. 
f.  1453,  I.  330. 

Mas  pesa  el  Rcy  que  la  Sangre  of  Gue- 
vara, 1 1.  293  - 296. 

Maspons,  Mossen  Domingo,  Trouba- 
dour, dramatist,  f.  1394,  H.  167,  n. 

Massieu,  origin  of  rhyme,  etc.,  HI.  374. 

Mata,  Gabriel  de,  f.  1589,  H.  470. 

Mata,  Gcron.  Fern,  de,  f.  1638.  Talcs. 
HI.  108. 

Mathicu  <le  Querci,  Troubadoui-,  I.  314. 

Matos  Fragoso,  Juan  do,  d.  1690.  Dra- 
mas, H 418,  419,  a.,  HI,  425. 

IMauri,  or  hlaury,  Juan  JMaria,  I.  19.3. 
HI.  348. 

Mayans  y Siscar,  Gregorio,  d.  1782.  His 
Origencs,  I.  547,  n.  Edits  Lnis  de 
Leon's  jjoctry,  H.  47.  Life  of  Cer- 
vantes, 52,  n.  Filida,  HI.  46,  n.  Jiis- 
tina,  67,  n.  Cartas  do  Varios  Autoros. 
136.  Life  of  Antonio,  153,  n.  Book 
collector,  249.  Rhetorica,  252.  On 
Cibdareal,  397. 

Mayor  Encanto  Amor  of  Calderon.  II. 
361,  n. 

Mayor  Monstruo  los  Zclos  of  Calderon. 
H.  371. 

Measures,  poetical,  in  the  Poem  of  the 
Cid,  I.  17.  Apollonio,  24.  Sta.  Maii.a 
Egypciaca,  25.  Bereeo,  29.  Alfonso  x., 
43.  Archpriest  of  Hita,  79.  Ayala,  99. 
Italian  measures  introduced,  483.  Yri- 
arte’s  variety,  HI.  279. 

Medici,  Lorenzo  de’,  age  of,  I.  477. 

IMedico  de  sii  Honra  of  Calderon,  II.  36(i. 
368. 

Medina  Sidonia,  Duke  of,  I.  441. 

Medina  Sidonia,  Duque  de,  translates 
Iphigonie,  HI.  319. 

Medinilla,  Pedro  de,  friend  of  Lope  dc 
Vega,  H.  128. 


532 


INDEX 


Medora  of  Lope  de  Rueda,  II.  11. 

Medrano,  Francisco  de,  f.  1617,  II.  533. 

Mejor  Alcalde  el  Rev  of  Lope  do  Vega, 
il.  207,  n.,  215,  ii., '389,  n. 

Mejor  Muger  Bladre,  poem  by  Calvo,  II. 
474,  475,  n. 

lilejor  Rejn-csentante  San  Gines,  El,  by 
Cancer,  II.  414,  ?<. 

Melendez  Valdes,  Juan,  d.  1817,  III.  285 
-292.  Archaisms,  297,  n.  Drama, 
321. 

Meli,  imitation  of  Don  Quixote,  III.  421. 

Melindrosa,  La,  of  Lope  do  Vega,  II. 
180. 

Mclisendra  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  235. 

Mclo,  Manuel  de,  d.  1666,  II.  529  and  n. 
Poetical  epistles,  III.  6.  History,  161. 

IMena,  Eerdinando  de,  Tlieagenes  and 
Cliariclea,  I.  245,  n. 

IMena,  Juan  de,  d.  1456,  1.  379-388. 
Effect  on  the  Spanish  language,  390. 
Cbroniclc  of  John  ii.,  I.  184.  Poem 
on  Alvaro  de  Luna,  199,  i>.  Not  the 
author  of  Mingo  Revulgo,  261  ; paro- 
dv  on.  442,  n.  Date  of  his  death,  III. 
399. 

Aloniechmi  of  Plautus,  II.  21. 

IMcndoza,  or  Mendo(;a,  Antonio  do,  f. 
1622.  His  Cclestina,  I.  271.  Drama 
■with  Villamediana.  II.  184,  n. ; with 
Quevedo,  185;  other  dramas,  318; 
on  Prince  Balthazar,  395,  n. : ijla}-  of 
Cubillo,  412.  His  loas,  442.  Lyrical 
poems.  547.  Ballads,  HI.  33. 

IMcndoza,  Diego  Hurtado  de,  d.  1575. 
Birth  and  education,  I.  509-511.  La- 
zarillo  do  Tonnes,  511  ; its  imitations, 
513.  A soldier  and  diplomatist,  514. 
Classical  studies,  515.  Ambassador  at 
the  Council  of  Trent,  and  at  Rome, 
515.  Retires  from  public  life,  exiled 
from  court,  516.  His  poetry,  517.  His 
miscellaneous  works,  519.  His  Guerra 
de  Granada,  520  - 526,  HI.  142.  Death 
and  character,  I.  527,  528.  His  libraiy, 
527,  II.  Figures  in  a play  of  Oroz- 
co, II.  51,  n. ; in  the  Galatea  of  Cer- 
vantes, 6.3,  Ti.  Finds  a rhymed  Chron- 
icle of  Alfonso  xi.,  I.  77.  His  narrative 
poetry,  II.  481.  Poems  with  Silves- 
tre’s,  I.  506.  On  the  Spanish  language, 
548,  n.,  HI.  217,  218,  n.  His  Satires, 
III.  3.  Letters,  129. 

Mendoza,  Garcia  de.  Marquis  of  Canete, 
troubles  with  Ercilla,  and  life  of,  by 
Figueroa.  II.  465,  n.  Pla}'S  on,  466,  ii. 

Mendoza,  Inigo  Lopez  de.  See  Saiiti- 
llana. 

Mendoza,  .Juan  Hurtado  de,  f.  1544.  Di- 
dactic poetry.  III.  17,  18  and  n. 

Mendoza,  Puente  de,  attacks  the  drama, 
II.  394. 

Mendoza,  Salazar  de,  on  the  expulsion 
of  the  Gypsies,  III.  202,  v. 


Menennos  of  Timoneda,  II.  21. 

Menina  e Mo(,a  of  Ribeyro,  II.  61,  ii.. 
HI.  53,  n. 

Meras,  Ignacio  de,  f.  1797.  AVorks,  HI . 
283,  n. 

Mercader  Amante  of  Aguilar,  II.  280. 
Mercader  y Cervellon,  Ids  Alfonso  viii., 
HI.  185,  n. 

Mcrcurio  General  of  Isla,  III.  266,  n. 
Meriendas  del  Ingenio  of  Prado,  HI 
109. 

Merlin,  a romance  of  chivaliy,  I.  244. 
Mesa,  Christoval  de,  f.  1612.  Epics,  H. 
496,  497,  «.  Lyrical  ]X)ctry,  517  and 
n.  Didactic  poetry.  III.  19.  Opposes 
the  old  drama,  II.  328. 

Mcscua,  Antonio  Mira  de.  See  Mira  do 
Mescua. 

Mcti'opolis,  long  wanted,  II.  276.  M.a- 
drid  made  such,  276. 

Mexia,  Diego,  Paniaso  Antartico,  III.  8. 
Mexia,  Ferant  de,  f.  1492.  His  Nobili- 
ario,  III.  96,  n. 

Mexia,  Ilcnian,  I.  435,  436. 

Mexia,  Luis,  I.  537. 

Mexia,  Pero,  d.  1552.  Submits  a book 
to  the  Inquisition,  I.  462,  n.  His  Sil- 
va, 537,  538,  n.  His  Chronicle,  555. 
IMexicana,  La,  of  Gabriel  Jjasso  do  la 
ATga,  II.  467. 

Mexico  Conquistada  of  Escoiquiz,  III. 

305. 

Michel,  Francisque,  I.  23,  n. 

Mignet,  on  Antonio  Perez,  III.  1.34,  n. 
Milanes,  .Jose  J.,  works,  1.  127,  n. 
Millan,  San,  by  Bercco,  I.  28. 

Milinan,  H.  H.,  Martyr  of  Antioch,  II. 
355. 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  by  Escoiquiz,  II I , 

306. 

Mimoso,  Juan  Sardina,  II.  433,  n. 

Mingo  Revulgo,  c.  1472, 1.  260.  Pulgar 
on,  42.3. 

Minnesingers,  I.  355  and  n. 

Mira  de  Mescua,  Antonio,  f.  1635. 
Dramas,  II.  .315,  HI.  425.  His 
Conde  Alarcos,  I.  127. 

Miranda,  Saa  de.  See  Sau. 

Mocedades  del  Cid  of  Girillcn  de  Castro, 

II.  287. 

Mock-heroic  poems,  II.  487,  III.  227. 
Mogiganga  del  Gusto  of  Castillo,  111. 
108. 

Mogigata,  I^a,  of  Moratin,  III.  3.37. 
Mohammed,  conquests  of,  HI.  .373. 
Mohammed  Calain,  a jlorisco  poem, 

III. 201,?!.^ 

Moliere  imitates  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  181. 
Tirso  de  Molina,  310.  Morcto,  406. 
Is  imitated  by  Moratin,  HI.  339. 
Molina,  Argote  de,  edits  Conde  Lucanor, 
I.  75,  n.  Monteria  of  Alfonso  xi.,  76. 
Cbronicle  of  Alfonso  xi.,  77.  ClaHjo, 
203,  n.  On  the  old  ballads,  lll,n. 


INDEX. 


533 


Defends  the  old  poetry,  507.  His  let- 
ters, III.  129.  His  death,  409. 

Molina.  See  Tirso  de  jShlina. 

Momo,  Historia  Moral  dc,  by  Noydens, 
HI.  86,  n. 

Monarchia  Hebrea  of  San  Phelipe,  HI. 
230. 

Moncada,  Francisco  de,  d.  1635.  Ex- 
pedicion  de  Catalanes,  HI.  159. 
Moncada,  Sanclio  dc,  f.  1609.  On  the 
expulsion  of  the  Gypsies,  III.  202. 
Moncayo,  Pedro  de,  chronicler.  III.  82. 
■Moncayo  y Gurrca,  Marques  de  San 
Felice,  f.  1656.  His  Atalanta,  II.  483. 
Poems,  530. 

Mondes’o  of  Saa  dc  Miranda,  HI.  11. 
iMondejar,  Marquis  of.  Life  of  Alfonso 
the  Wise,  I.  38,  n.  Advertencias,  III. 
151,  n. 

Monroy,  dramatist,  II.  417. 

MonseiTate  of  Virues,  II.  471. 

Monstruo  Imaginado  of  Ledesma,  II. 
518. 

Montagnagout,  a Troubadour,  I.  44,  n. 
Montalvan,  Juan  Perez  de,  d.  1638. 
Birth  and  education,  II.  297.  His  St. 
Patrick,  298,  353,  n.  Dies  mad,  299. 
Connection  with  Lope,  299.  Orfeo, 
299.  Dramas,  300.  Theory  of  the 
drama,  306.  Versification,  306,  n. 
His  Fama  Postuma,  298.  His  fitme, 
.307.  His  Gitana  de  Menfis,  I.  26,  n. 
Festivals  of  San  Isidro,  II.  152,  153. 
Play  of  Lope  ascribed  to,  208,  n.  His 
list  of  dramatic  authors,  332.  His 
Para  Todos,  III.  105. 

Montalvo,  Garcia  Grdoiiez  de,  c.  1500. 
Translates  the  Amadis  de  Gaula,  I. 
223.  Writes  the  Esplandian,  1.  231. 
Montalvo,  Luis  Galvez  de,  d.  1591. 
Filida,  III.  46.  On  the  Italian  school, 
I.  507. 

Montano,  Arias,  d.  1598.  His  Song  of 
Solomon,  II.  42,  n.  His  Polyglot 
Bible,  III.  144. 

Montejo,  Fr.  Benito,  early  history  of 
Castile,  I.  91,  n. 

Montemayor,  Jorge  de,  d.  1561.  His 
Diana  Enamorada,  II.  62,  HI.  41  -43. 
Translates  Ausias  March,  I.  333. 
Narrative  poetrv,  II.  481.  Lyrical, 
507,  508,  n.  Satirical,  III.  i.  Ec- 
logues, 10.  Story  of  Narvaez,  96 
and  n. 

Mon tengon, Pedro  de,  f.  1815,  III.  283,)!. 
Monteria  of  Alfonso  xi.,  I.  76. 

Monteria  of  Don  Juan  Manuel,  I.  65,  n. 
Monteser,  dramatist,  II.  417,  487,  n. 
Montesino,  Ambrosio,  (El  Cartuxano,) 
f 1502.  His  Vita  Christi,  I.  414,  n. 
Montesinos,  ballads,  I.  132. 

Montiano  y Luyando,  Agustin,  f.  1753. 
His  Virginia,  III.  316.  His  Athaul- 
pho,  317. 


Montoro,  Joseph  Perez  de,  d.  1694. 
Poet,  II.  549. 

jMoors,  always  hated  by  Christi.an  Span- 
iai'ds,  I.  7,  447  and  n.  Persecution 
and  expulsion,  449,  467.  Origin  of 
the  name.  III.  373,  n. 

Moraes,  Francisco,  translates  Palmerin 
of  England,  I.  237. 

Moraes  y Vasconcellos,  Francisco  Botel- 
ho,  f 1734.  His  Works,  III.  225. 

Moraleja,  Joseph,  f 1741.  Fictions,  III. 
106,  n.  El  Entretenido,  250. 

Morales,  Ambrosio  de,  d.  1591.  History 
of  Spain,  III.  141.  Discourses.  1.  536, 
n.  Letters,  III.  129.  Epistle  in  Latin 
and  Spanisli,  385,  n.  Praise  of  Boscan. 
I.  482. 

Morales,  Jorge  Pinto  de,  Komancero,  HI. 
394. 

Morales,  Juan  de.  Eclogue,  HI.  13. 

IMorales,  Juan  Bartolome,  translates 
Lobo’s  Primavera,  HI.  53,  n. 

Morales,  two  actors.  H.  434. 

Moralities  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  170. 

Moratin,  Leandro  Femandez  de.  d.  1828. 
Dramas,  HI.  333  - 339.  Poems,  307. 
Auto  da  Fe  de  Logrono,  204,  n.  Gti 
the  earliest  Spanish  drama.  I.  259,  n. 

Moratin,  Nicolas  F.  de.  d.  1780.  IVorks, 
III.  272.  His  Club,  274.  Improvi- 
sates,  274. )!.  Dramas,  318,  319.  De- 
sengaiio  al  Teatro.  324. 

Morayma,  ballad,  I.  122. 

Moreno,  Juan,  I.  339. 

Moreto,  Agustin.  d.  1669.  11.403-408. 
Valiente  Justiciero,  I.  183,  »?.  Lieen- 
ciado  Vidriera,  H.  88,  n.  Desden  con 
el  Desden,  318.  Azote,  419,  n.  Play 
altered.  HI.  320. 

Morillo,  Diego  de,  didactic  poetry,  III. 
19. 

Morisco,  what,  HI.  202,  n. 

Morisco  literature,  I.  9.5,  III.  201,  202,  n. 

Moriscos,  expulsion  of,  HI.  200,  201,  n., 
85. 

Moros  Latinados.  III.  377,  n. 

Morte  Darthur,  I.  .320.  n. 

Mosquea,  La,  of  Villaviciosa,  II.  489. 

IMosquera  de  Barnuevo,  Francisco,  f. 
1612,  II.  499. 

Mosqueteros,  what,  II.  437,  438,  439,  n. 

Motes  con  Glosas  of  the  Cancioncro  Gen- 
eral, I.  439. 

IMothe  Ic  Vayer,  La,  attacks  Sandoval, 
III.  151,  )!. 

Motteux,  translation  of  Don  Quixote, 
III.  419,  420. 

Mova,  Juan  Martinez  de,  f 1630.  Tale, 
III.  107. 

Moza  de  Cantaro  of  Lope  dc  Vega,  II. 
210. 

Mozirabes.  See  Muqdrahes. 

Mozart,  Don  Giovanni,  H.  310. 

Minja,  ballads  on,  I.  148. 

SS  * 


534 


INDEX. 


Muijarabes,  what,  III.  377  ami  ti. 

Muorte  de  Baklovinos,  by  Cancer,  II. 
414,  Ji. 

Mu'^ere.s,  Loor  de,  of  Acosta,  III.  176. 
Muller,  Jobnn  von,  Life  of  the  Cid,  1. 13,  a. 
Mumin,  Morisco  romance.  111.  201,  «. 
Mnfiecas  de  Marcela,  ))y  Cubillo,  11.412. 
Munoz,  Ant.,  f.  1739.  Works,  111.  228. 
Munoz,  Juan  Bautista,  d.  1799.  History, 
MI.  305. 

Muntancr,  Banion,  f.  1328.  Cronica,  I. 
318-321.  Used  by  Moneada,  III. 
159. 

Mtiratori,  Della  Perfetta  I’ocsia,  III.  237, 
238,  71. 

Murcia,  tbeatres  shut.  III.  342. 

Murillo,  (ii’Cfjorio,  Satire,  III.  4. 

Musica  of  Yriartc,  III.  278. 

Mysteries,  early  S|)ani.sh,  I.  256,  276, 
289.  Time  of  Charles  v.,  II.  4,  5. 
Pass  into  Autos,  227. 

Mystic  writers,  III.  176.  Their  influ- 
ence, 180. 


N. 

Naeimiento  de  Christo  of  Lope  de  Vega, 
II.  218  and  a. 

Nagera,  Stevan  G.  de,  Silva  de  Ro- 
mances, I.  126,  III.  389. 

Naharro,  Bart.  Toitcs  do,  f.  1517. 
Dramas,  I.  295  - 305.  Dramatic  ideUs, 
296.  Versifleation,  303.  Ilis  plays 
were  acted,  304,  ?/■  Little  influence, 

305.  His  satires,  HI.  3. 

Names  of  men  in  Spanish,  III.  71,  n. 
Naples,  connection  with  Spain,  I.  351, 
475. 

Napoleon  invades  Spain,  HI.  345. 

Driven  out,  346. 

Narcis  Vinoles.  See  V/'noks. 

Narrative  poetry,  earliest,  I.  12-34,  91 
- 99.  Time  of  Charles  v.,  Philip  ii., 
iii.,  and  iv.,  H.  454-504.  Time  of 
Philip  v.,  HI.  225,  226,  230.  Of 
Charles  iii.,  273.  Of  Charles  iv., 

306.  Of  Perdinand  vii.,  282,  283,  7i. 
Naiwaez,  story  of.  III.  42,  ??.,  94,  96,  7i. 
Narvaez,  a poetess,  f.  1605,  II.  515. 
Nasan-e,  Bias,  on  the  earliest  Spanish 

drama,  I.  259,  n.  On  Cervantes,  II. 
95,  n.,  HI.  253. 

Nat  de  Mons,  a Troubadour,  I.  44, 
314. 

Navagiero,  Andrea,  great  influence  on 
Spanish  poetry,  I.  478,  479. 

NavaiTa,  Pedro  de,  f.  1567.  Dialogues, 
I.  537  and 

Navaixete,  I'emandez  de,  f.  1625.  Per- 
fecto  Privado,  III.  184. 

Navarrete,  Martin  Pemandez  do,  his 
Coleccion  de  Viages,  I.  207,  r/.  Life 
of  Cervantes,  II.  52,  n.  On  Lope  de 


Vega,  83,  144,  n.  On  Cadahalso,  HI 
277,  Ii.  On  Samaniego,  281,  n. 
Navarro,  Cristobal,  early  dramatic  writer, 
II.  227,  II. 

Navarro,  Gonzalo,  . 1683.  Attacks  the 
drama,  H.  394,  li. 

Navas  de  Tolosa,  battle  of,  I.  9 and  ii. 

Poem  of,  by  Mesa,  H.  496,  497,  ii. 
Navas  de  Cortes  of  Moratin,  HI.  273. 
Naxera,  battle  of,  I.  178. 

Nebrissensis.  Sec  Ldmxa. 

Nccio  bien  Afortunado  of  Salas  Barba- 
dillo,  HI.  101,  II. 

Negrete,  Joseph  Tafalla,  f.  1700.  Poet, 
11.  549  and  ii. 

Negro  Valicnte  en  Plandcs,  II.  492. 
Ncufchtiteau,  Pran^ois  de,  on  Gil  Bias, 
HI.  268,  II. 

Neves  Pereira,  Ant.,  on  Saa  de  Miran- 
da, HI.  12. 

Nibelungenlicd,  I.  20,  n.,  23,  ii. 

Nicolas  de  los  Romances,  1.  116. 

Nicolas,  San,  de  Tolentino,  of  Lope  <h; 

Vega,  II.  224,  ii.,  242. 

Niebla,  Count,  in  Juan  de  Mena,  I.  386. 
Nina  de  Gomez  Arias  of  Calderon,  11. 
363. 

Ninfas  de  Henares  of  Gonzalez  de  Bova- 
dilla,  HI.  48. 

Niiio,  Pero,  Condc  de  Buelna,  Chronicle 
of,  I.  197.  Vcr.ses  for,  393,  ii.,  430,  ». 
Nise  Laurcada  and  Nise  Lastimosa  of 
Bermudez,  II.  31. 

Nobiliario  of  Mexia,  III.  96,  ii. 

Noche  de  San  Juan  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
184-  189. 

Noche  Oscura  of  Sta.  Cruz,  HI.  178. 
Noches  Alegres  of  Ortiz,  HI.  251,  n. 
Noches  Claras  of  Sousa,  HI.  188. 

Noches  de  Invienio  of  Eslava,  HI.  102. 
Noches  de  Placer  of  Solorzano,  HI.  109, 

II. 

No  hay  Amigo  para  Amigo  of  Ro.xas, 
HI.  269,  n. 

Nombres  dc  Christo  of  Luis  de  Leon, 
II.  43. 

Noroha,  Gaspar  de,  d.  1815.  His  Works, 
HI.  283,  71. 

Northern  nations,  imiption  of,  HI.  368. 
Nothing  like  Silence,  of  Calderon,  II. 
360,  395. 

Novelas  of  Cervante.s,  11.84-88.  Of 
Lope  dc  Vega,  156.  Of  many  author.s, 
HI.  93-118. 

Novellieri,  HI.  98. 

Noydens,  Benito  Remigio  dc,  f.  1660. 
Historia  de  Momo,  HI.  86  and  ii. 
Edits  Covamibias,  219,  ii. 

Nucio,  Martin,  Romancero,  HI.  391. 
Nueva  Comedia  of  Moratin,  HI.  336. 
Nueva  Idea  dcla  Tragedia  Antigua  of 
Salas,  HI.  237. 

Nueva  Jerusalcn  Maria  of  Escobar,  II. 
474,  475. 


INDEX. 


535 


Nuevo  Mmido  dc  Colon  of  Lope  de  Ve- 
ga, II.  199. 

Nuevo  Mundo  of  Moraes.  III.  22.5. 
Nuevo  !Mundo,  Hist,  de,  b}'  Munoz,  III. 
305. 

Numaneia,  La.  of  Cervantes,  II.  70-  76  ; 
of  Ayala,  HI.  321. 

Numantina.  La,  of  IMosqnera,  11.  499. 
Nunes  de  Liao,  III.  361,  n. 

Nunez  de  Castro,  Alonso,  Corona  Gdtica, 
III.  164,  n. 

Nunez,  Fenian,  Greek  Commander,  III. 
138.  Letters,  129.  Proverlis,  171. 
Commentary  on  Juan  de  Mena,  I.  385. 
Nunez,  Nicolas,  I.  442.  n.,  425. 


0. 

Obregon,  Marcos  de,  of  Espincl,  III.  69, 
70  and  notes,  267,  n. 

Ocampo,  Florian  de.  d.  1555.  Chronicler, 
I.  554.  Edits  the  Cronica  General,  158, 
159,  n.  Credulity,  III.  148. 

Ocaiia,  Francisco  de,  f.  1603.  Lyrical 
poetry'.  II.  517. 

Ocios  de  Espaholc.s  Emigrados,  III. 
349,  u. 

Oliva,  Count  of.  1.  442.  n. 

Oliva,  Fenian  Perez  de.  d.  1530.  IVorks, 
1.534-536,539.  Translations,  II.  5. 
Dialoirue  in  botli  Latin  and  Spanish, 
III.  385.  7i. 

filivante  de  Laura  of  Torqnemada,  I. 
241.  III.  174. 

< llivares,  Gcronimo  de,  I.  38.3. 

< llivares,  Count  Duke,  patronizes  men 

of  letters.  II.  284.  340,  522.  545.  Lux- 
urious arrangements  for  the  drama, 
184.  398,  450.  Persecutes  Quevedo, 
258. 

Olmedo.  Alonso  de,  actor,  II.  434. 

Olmo,  .Joseph  del.  Auto  General.  III. 
206.  )?. 

( Immiada  of  Noroha,  HI.  284. 

Ona.  Pedro  dc,  f.  1596.  His  rkrauco,  11. 
466. 

Operas  in  Spain,  II.  361,  n.,  425,  III. 
314. 

Oration  of  Forner.  III.  294,  n. 

< Irfea,  a play.  II.  4. 

< Irfeo  of  .Janregui,  II.  540. 

< lifeo  of  Montalvan.  II.  540. 

< Irfeo  Militar  of  Ovando,  II.  502,  n. 

Oria,  Santa,  of  Berceo,  1.  28. 

Oriente,  Alvarez  do.  I.  238. 

(Irigen  de  la  Comedia,  bv  C.  Pellicer,  II. 
352.  n. 

On'genes  de  la  Poesia  Castellana,  by 
Velazquez.  III.  252. 

Orlando  Furioso  of  Espinosa.  II.  458. 
Orlando,  poems  on,  by  Bolea,  II.  477 
and  n. 

Orstia  and  Aguirre,  II.  468. 


Ortega,  Francisco  de,  f.  18th  century. 

His  Jlonserrate,  II.  472. 

Ortiz,  Agostin,  c.  1535.  Drama  by,  11.  9. 
Ortiz,  Alonso,  f.  149.3.  Tratados,  1.  420. 
Ortiz  Gallardo  de  Villarocl,  Isidro,  f. 
1758.  His  Noches  .iklegrcs.  III.  250, 
251,  n. 

Ortografia  Castellana  of  the  Academy, 
III.  220  ; of  Aleman,  188,  220,  221 
and  /!. 

Osorio,  Diego  de  Sanisteban,  f.  1597. 

Continuation  of  the  Araucana.  II.  464. 
Ottava  rima,  oldest,  I.  44.  Of  Boscan, 
486. 

Oudin,  Ca3sar.  II.  84,  n. 

Ousely,  Sir  W.,  1.  58,  ». 

Ovando,  Joan  de  la  Victoria,  f.  1688,  II. 
502,  n. 

Ovid,  translated  by  Mexia,  III,  8. 
Oviedo.  Gonz.  Fernandez  de.  d.  1557. 
His  History,  I.  559,  560.  His  Quin- 
quagenas,  562. 

Oviedo,  Cosine  dc,  an  autor,  II.  440. 
Owen,  John,  Ejiigrammata,  III.  16. 
Oziosi,  Academy  of,  II.  537. 


P. 

Pacheco,  Francisco,  d.  1654.  MS.  of, 
II.  47,  71.  Painter  and  author,  509,  u. 
Treatise  on  Painting,  III.  21. 
Padecopeo,  Gabriel,  name  taken  by  Lope 
de  Vega,  II.  148. 

Padilla,  Juan  de,  (El  Cartuxano,)  f.  1513. 
His  Rctablo  and  Doee  Trinnfos,  I. 
413. 

Padilla,  Loremjo  de,  chronicler,  I.  555,?!. 
Padilla,  Pedro  de,  f.  1600.  Friend  of 
Cervantes,  11.  65.  Translates  Corte- 
real,  493,  n.  Lyrical  poetry,  508.  Sa- 
tire, III.  4.  Eclogues,  12.  Ballads, 
30.  On  Narvaez,  96. 

Padre  Enganado  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 

235. 

Padron,  Juan  Rodriguez  del,  I.  184  and 
?!.,  394,  435. 

Paez,  Agustin  Texada.  See  Te.rada. 
Palacios,  El  Cura  de  los.  See  Ber/ialde^. 
Palacios,  Jose  Maria,  his  Cajista,  IH. 
221. 

Palacios  Rubios,  Juan  Lopez  dc  Vivero, 
f.  1524.  His  Esfuerzo  Belico  Herdyco, 
I.  539  and  7i. 

Paladino,  what.  III.  386,  ??. 

Palencia,  Alonso  de,  f.  1474.  Chronicle, 
I.  187.  Dictionary,  549. 

Palmerin  de  Inglaterra,  bv  Hurtado,  I. 

236.  Translations  of,  2.37,  n. 

Palmerin  de  Oliva,  and  its  successors, 

I.  235,  236. 

Palmireno,  Lorenzo,  Proverbs,  III.  172, 
173,  77. 

Pamphylus  Maurianus,  I.  81,  259,  7i. 


536 


INDEX. 


Pantaleon,  Anastasio,  d.  1629.  Poet,  II. 
529  and  n.  At  tlie  festival  of  San 
Isidro,  152.  Ili.s  Eco,  483. 

Pantoja,  against  the  tlieatrc.  III.  342. 
Pan  y Toros,  a satire.  III.  304,  n. 
Panzano,  Martin,  f.  1759.  On  Calderon, 
II.  351,  n. 

Para  Algunos  of  Los  Reyes,  III.  lOG. 
Paradise  Lost,  translation  from,  by  Jo- 
vellanos.  III.  304,  n. 

Para  Si  of  Fernandez  y Peralta,  III. 
106,  n. 

Para  Todos  of  Montalvan,  III.  105. 
Paravicino  y Arteaga,  Ilortcnsio  Felix, 
d.  1633.  Poet  and  preacher  to  the 
court,  II.  527.  Ilis  Cultismo,  III.  127, 
190. 

Paris,  Alexandre  de,  I.  57. 

Paris,  Juan  dc,  f.  1536.  Dramatist,  II. 
6-8. 

Parraga  Martel  de  la  Fuente,  Francisco, 
his  Lisseno  y Fenisa,  III.  92,  n. 
Partidas,  Las  Siete,  I.  49  - 55.  Their 
character,  51.  Authority  in  the  United 
States,  51,  n.  Great  value  in  Spain, 
51,  a.  Recognize  chivalry,  250;  and 
the  drama,  257. 

Parvos,  what,  II.  19,  n. 

Pasagero  of  Figueroa,  III.  99,  u.,  183. 
Pasion  del  Hombre  Dios,  by  Davila,  II. 
474,  475,  n. 

Pasos  of  Lope  de  Rueda,  II.  16,  17,  n. 
Pasos  of  Tinioneda,  II.  20  - 24. 

Passau,  convention  of,  I.  459. 

Pastor  Fido,  translated  by  Figueroa,  III. 
50 ; by  Isabel  de  Correa,  50,  n.  Dra- 
ma of,  by  Calderon,  etc.,  50,  n. 

Pastor  Loho,  El,  an  auto  of  Lope,  II.  234. 
I’astoral  de  Jacinto  of  Lope,  II.  123,  n., 
170. 

Pastoral  life  in  Spain,  III.  39. 

Pastoral  poetry,  I.  490,  III.  10-14. 
Pastorals,  prose.  III.  38-54. 

Pastores  de  Belen  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
146. 

Pastores  de  Iberia  of  Bernardo  de  la 
Vega,  III.  48. 

Pastoreta,  what,  I.  371 . 

Patios,  I.  36,  II.  433,  437,  HI.  314. 
Paton,  Bart.  Ximenez  de,  f.  1604.  Elo- 
quencia  Espanola,  III.  188. 

Patrick,  St.,  life,  by  Montalvan,  II.  298. 

Drama,  by  Calderon,  353  and  ii. 
Patron  do  Espatia  of  Mesa,  II.  496, 
497,  n. 

Patrona  de  Madrid  of  Salas  Barbadillo, 
II.  499,  n. 

Paul  iv.,  Pope,  and  the  Inquisition,  I. 
465. 

Paul  the  Sharper,  See  Gran  Tacano. 
Peace,  Prince  of  the.  See  Godoy. 

Pedro,  Diego  de  San,  f.  1500,  I.  424. 
His  Carcel  de  Amor,  424  - 426.  Po- 
ems, 120,  424,  436,  442,  n.,  III.  17. 


Pedro  el  Cruel,  Ayala’s  Chronicle  oT, 
1.  183.  Other  accounts  of,  183,  n 
Ballads  on,  183,  n.  Dramas  on,  183,  n., 
JI.  368,  n.,  404. 

Pedro,  Hieronimo  de  San,  his  Celestial 
Chivalry,  I.  246  - 249. 

Pedro,  Infante  of  Portugal,  f.  1440.  A 
poet,  I.  381  and  n. 

Pedro,  San,  f.  1769.  His  Grammar,  111 
222. 

Pegujarcs,  what.  III.  170,  n. 

Pelayo,  III.  373.  Poem  on,  by  El  Pin- 
ciano,  II.  499  and  n. ; by  Solis,  III. 
250.  Drama  by  Quintana,  309  ; by 
Jovellanos,  323. 

Pcllicer,  Casiano,  on  the  Spanish  thea- 
tre, II.  352,  n. 

Pellicer,  J.  A.,  Examen  del  Antiquixote. 
I.  28,  II.  116, 11.  Life  of  Cervantes,  IJ . 
52,  n.  On  Nasarre,  96,  n.  On  the 
Buscapic,  III.  405.  Edition  of  Don 
Quixote,  417. 

Pcllicer,  Josef,  Lecciones  in  Gongora,  H. 
526,  n. 

Pcllicer  dc  Toledo,  Ignacio  Alvarez,  f. 

1635.  Dramatist,  II.  424. 

Poor  esta  quo  estaba  of  Calderon,  II. 

381.  Used  by  Lo  Sage,  HI.  269,  n. 
I’ercy’s  Rcliques,  I.  154. 

Perdida  de  Espaua,  what,  I.  162,  n.,  HI. 
380,  n. 

Perdigon,  Troubadour,  I.  313. 

Peregrino  en  su  Patria  of  Lope,  H.  142. 
Peregrino  Indiano  of  Saavedra,  H.  467. 
Peregrino,  Raphael,  pseudonyme  of  Ant, 
Perez,  HI.  133. 

Peregrino  y Jinebra,  a tale,  HI.  77,  n. 
Perez,  Alonso,  narrative  poetry,  II.  482. 
His  Diana,  HI.  43. 

Perez,  Andreas,  f.  1603.  Picara  Justina. 
HI.  66. 

Perez,  Antonio,  d.  1611.  His  Letters  and 
Rclaciones,  III.  130-  134.  Herrera's 
History  of,  154.  Argemsola  opposed 
to  him,  H.  536. 

Perez,  Gonzalo,  f.  1 566.  Translation  of 
tlie  Odyssey,  HI.  130.  Blank  verse 
of,  I.  481,  n. 

Perez,  Juan  Bautista,  f.  1595.  Attacks 
the  Chronicones,  HI.  153. 

Perez,  Luis,  Gloss  on  Manriqne,  I.  409. 
Perez,  Marcos,  his  Siete  Sabios,  HI. 
99,  n. 

Perez,  Nicolas,  on  Don  Quixote,  H. 
116,  n. 

Perez,  Pedro  Arias,  Primavera  de  Ro- 
mances, HI.  34,  394. 

Perfecta  Casada  of  Luis  dc  Leon,  H.  45. 
Perfeto  Seiior  of  Antonio  de  Vega,  H. 
.529,  HI.  186. 

Peribanez  of  Lope,  H.  204,  n. 

Periquillo  of  Santos,  HI.  114. 

Perro  del  Hortelano  of  Lope  de  Vega,  H. 
180. 


INDEX. 


537 


Persiles  y Sigismunda  of  Cei'vantes,  II. 
99,  100.  English  translation,  100,  n. 
Used  by  Fletcher,  the  dramatist,  100,  n. 
character  of,  101.  Imitation  of,  102,  h. 
Notice  of,  387. 

Peril,  Comentarios,  by  Garcilasso  the 
Inca,  III.  157. 

Peter  ii.  of  Aragon,  d.  1213,  I.  312. 

Peter  iii.  of  Aragon,  d.  12S5.  I.  322,  .350. 

Peter  iv.  of  Aragon,  d.  1387.  I.  324. 

Petimetra  of  N.  F.  Moratin,  III.  318. 

Petrarquistas,  I.  502. 

Phaeton  of  Villamediana,  II.  483. 

Phelipe,  Marques  de  San,  d.  1726.  His 
works.  III.  230. 

Philip  ii.,  d.  1598.  IMysteries  performed 
at  his  baptism,  II.  4.  Suppresses  the- 
atres, 330.  Epic  jioetry  in  his  reign, 
455.  Intolerance,  in.  205,  206.  Treat- 
ment of  Perez,  idO  ; of  Ercilla,  464. 
Effects  of  his  reign,  199. 

Philip  iii.,  d.  1624.  Miraculously  cured 
by  Isidro  cl  Labrador,  II.  135.  Com- 
memorated by  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  137. 
Marriage  at  Valencia,  173.  Jesuits 
act  a play  before  him,  433,  n.  Eft'eets 
of  his  reign.  HI.  200. 

Philip  i\^,  d.  1665.  Breaks  his  word  to 
Lope  de  Vega,  II.  251,  n.  Impro- 
visates,  253.  Writes  plays,  325.  Trans- 
lates Guicciardini,  325.  n.  Patronizes 
Calderon,  336,  403.  Festivities  on  his 
second  marriage,  395  and  n. ; on  the 
marriage  of  his  daughter,  396  and  n. 
Effects  of  his  reign.  III.  201. 

Philip  V.,  d.  1746.  Keign,  III.  214.  Char- 
acter, 215.  Literary  jwojects,  216.  State 
of  letters,  224.  Influence  of  France, 
232.  Intolerance,  246  - 248.  Effect 
on  the  drama,  312. 

Philips,  John,  translation  of  Don  Quix- 
ote, III.  419. 

Phillips,  Sir  Thomas,  Collection  of 
Manuscripts,  I.  400,  n. 

Philosophia  Antigua  Poctica  of  Pinciano, 
III.  236. 

Phoenicians  in  Spain,  III.  358. 

Piamonte,  Nicolas,  his  Carlomagno,  1. 244. 

Picara  Justina  of  Perez,  III.  66. 

Picaresco  fictions,  I 511  -514,  III.  55- 
75.  See  Gusto  Picaresco. 

Picaresco  life,  described  by  Cervantes, 
II.  87,  n. 

Picarillo  cn  Esparia  of  Canizarcs,  II.  428. 

Picaros,  what,  I.  512,  III.  58. 

Piedad  en  Justicia  of  Guillen  de  Castro, 
II.  285. 

Pierres  y Magalona,  a romance  of  chiv- 
alry, 1.  244,  n. 

Pinciano,  El.  See  Lopez. 

Pindaro  of  Cespedes,  III.  87. 

Pineda,  Juan  de,  f.  1588.  Passo  Ilon- 
roso,  I.  193. 

Pineda,  Pedro  de.  III.  45,  n. 

VOL.  III. 


Pinedo,  an  actor,  II.  434. 

Pintor  de  su  Deshonra  of  Calderon,  II. 
371. 

Pintura,  Dialogos  de  la,  bv  Cardueho.  111. 
190,  n. 

Pintura,  La,  of  Rcion  de  Silva,  HI. 
279,  n. 

Pitaco  of  Cienfuegos,  III.  329. 

Pitillas,  Jorge,  psendonvme  of  Ilcrbas. 
III.  229. 

Plautus,  translated,  II.  30. 

Play-bills.  II.  440. 

Plaza  Universal  of  Figueroa,  IIP.  183. 
Pleiades,  II.  520. 

Poesias,  Libro  de,  of  D.  .Juan  Manuel, 

I.  65,  n. 

Poeta  of  Moratin.  HI.  273. 

Policiana,  imitation  of  Celcstina,  I.  269. 
Polieisne  de  Boecia,  romance  of  chivalrv. 

II.  107,  n. 

Polifemo  of  Montalvan,  II.  305  ; of  Guii- 
gora,  483,  526. 

Polo,  Francisco,  dramatist.  II.  416,  n. 
Polo,  Gil,  f.  1564.  Diana  Enamorada. 

HI.  44.  II.  62.  Eclogues,  HI.  12. 
Polo,  Salvador  .Jacinto,  lyrical  poetrv. 

11.544.  Tales,  HI.  106,  «.,  111. 
Pompeio  of  Mesa,  II.  497,  n. 

Ponderiltus  et  Plensuris,  De,  of  Mariana. 
HI.  147,  n. 

I’ons  Barba,  Troubadour,  I.  313. 

Ponza.  See  Vomedieta  de. 

Porflarhasta  Morir  of  Lope,  II.  190. 

Por  la  Puente  Juana  of  Lope.  II.  190. 
Portugal,  Francisco  de,  d.  1632.  Arte 
de  Galanteria,  II.  106,111.  189. 
Portugal,  Manoel  de,  d.  1606.  Poetrv, 
11.516. 

Portuguese  authors,  write  sometimc.s  in 
Spanish,  I.  283  and  n.,  HI.  11.  See 
Melo  ; Saa  de  Miranda  ; VioJante. 
Portuguese  language,  origin  of,  I.  41, 
First  poetry  in,  ih,  French  words  in. 
ib.,  71. 

Postrer  Duelo  de  Espaha  of  Calderon. 
II,  390. 

Pozo,  Ledo  del,  I.  183. 

Prado,  Andres  de,  f.  1663.  Talcs,  HI. 
109. 

Prado,  Sebastian,  actor.  II.  434  and  n. 
Pratica  de  Virtudes  of  Castilla,  HI. 

18,  77. 

Preciosa  of  Cervantes,  often  imitated.  H. 
86. 

Preguntas  of  Caneionero  General,  I.  440. 
I’remio  de  la  Constancia  of  Adorno.  HI. 
51. 

Premio  del  bien  hablar  of  Lope  de  Vega. 
II.  121,  n.,  190. 

Prescott,  W.  IL,  Preface,  x.,  I.  188,  ??.. 

189,  77.,  557,  563,  n. 

Press,  first  book  printed  in  Spain,  1. 338. 
Watched,  451.  Under  the  civil  gov- 
ernment and  the  Oidores,  460,  461. 


68 


538 


INDEX. 


Controlled  by  tlic  Inqiii.sition,  402  and 
n.  Enslaved,  409,  III.  190,  197. 
Erichard,  J.  C.,  III.  3.08,  n. 

I’rinialeon,  romance  of  chivalry,  I.  235. 
Primavera  de  Koniaiiccs,  III.  34,  394. 
Primavera  of  Lobo,  III.  53,  n. 

Principe  Tlieatrc.  II.  37,  III.  314. 
Principe  Constante  of  Calderon,  II.  370. 
Life  of,  377,  ??. 

Principe  Perfeto  of  Lope,  1.  00,  n.,  II. 
195  - 199. 

Printing-  introduced  into  Spain,  1.  338. 
Privado,  wliat,  I.  199,  ii. 

Probleinas  of  Villalobos,  I.  533. 

Proceso  de  Cartas  de  Amores,  I.  420,  n. 
Procida,  (xiovanni  da,  1.  350. 

Prodigal  Son  by  Lope,  II.  172. 
Propaladia  of  Naliarro,  I.  295,  290,  n. 

Eorbidden,  II.  3. 

Prosa,  what.  III.  380,  ti. 

Prose,  Castilian,  early  notices  of,  I.  40, 
54,  04.  Under  John  ii.,  394.  Under 
Henry  iv.,  415.  Under  Charles  v., 
and  inliuence  of  Italy  on,  531  -547. 
Ctiltismo  in.  III.  190  - 195. 

Proserpina,  La,  of  Silvestre,  III.  227,  ii. 
Provence,  its  position  and  history,  I. 
300.  Connection  with  Barcelona,  308  ; 
with  Aragon,  309  ; with  the  Arabs  of 
Spain,  III,  374. 

Proven(;al  literature,  first  appearance  in 
Provence,  I.  300 ; in  Barcelona,  308  ; 
in  Aragon.  309.  Character  of,  310. 
Connected  with  the  heresy  of  the  Al- 
bigenses,  312.  Decay  in  Provence, 
321.  Known  in  Castile,  35,  n.,  43,  n., 
44,  n.,  324.  Flourishes  in  Toulouse, 
338.  Decays  in  the  South  of  Spain, 
344,  .345. 

Provenijal  poetry,  rhymes  in,  abundant, 
I.  29,  n.  Cultivated  by  Alfonso  the 
Wise,  44,  )i. ; by  the  Marquis  of  San- 
tillana,  371.  Inliuence  in  the  Cancio- 
ncros,  429,  444. 

Proverbs,  Spanish,  III.  109-  173.  By 
Ilos,  I.  330,  n.  By  Santillana,  370, 
377  and  n.  By  Pero  Diaz,  378. 

Puente  del  Mundo  of  Lope,  II.  233. 
Puente,  .Tuan  de,  Jardin  de  Amadores, 
III.  .394. 

Puerto  Carrero,  Dialogue  by,  I.  294,  n. 
Poems,  441. 

Puibusque,  Histoire  Comparee  des  Lit- 
teratures  Espagnole  et  Framjaise,  II. 
320,  n. 

Pujasol,  Estevan,  f.  1637.  El  Sol  Solo, 
ill.  189,  n. 

Pulgar,  Fern,ando  del,  f.  1492.  Chron- 
icle of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  I.  189. 
Commentary  on  Mingo  Revulgo,  ib. 
Historical  Report  on  Granada,  190. 
Claros  Varones,  421  -423. 

Pulgar,  Hernan  Perez  del,  (El  de  las 
Hazaiias,)  d.  1531.  Life  of  Gonzalvo 


de  Cordova,  I.  200.  Plays  on  him, 
201,  n. 

Pulpit  eloquence.  See  Eloquence 
Purgatorio  de  San  Patricio  of  Calderon, 
Ii.  353. 

Pur|)ura  de  la  Rosa  of  Calderon,  II. 
361,  n.,  396. 

P3-ramo  y Tisbe  of  Gbngora,  II.  526. 


Q- 

Quatrocientas  Respuestas  of  Escobar,  I. 
529,  530. 

Qucrellas  of  Alfonso  the  Wise,  1.  39,  n., 
44  and  n. 

Question  do  Amor,  c.  1512,  I.  426, 

439,  70,  III.  76.  Dialogue  in,  294. 

Questions,  in  the  Cancionero  General,  I. 

440.  Others,  529. 

Quevedo,  Faustino  de.  III.  331,  n. 

Quevedo  3'  Villegas,  Francisco  Gomez 
de,  d.  1645.  Birth  and  education,  II. 
255.  In  Sicily,  256.  Minister  of  Fi- 
nance at  Naples,  257.  Exiled,  257. 
Married,  257.  Persecuted,  258.  Death, 
259.  Ambitious  of  universal  success, 
259.  Greater  part  of  his  works  not 
printed,  259,  260,  n.  Tiunslates  Epic- 
tetus and  Ihiocylidcs,  260.  Poetr3' 
published,  260  ; its  ch.aracter,  261  ; its 
faults,  262.  He  publishes  Poeslas  del 
Bachiller  de  la  Torre,  263.  His  prin- 
cipal works  are  in  i7rose,  267.  El 
Gran  Tacailo,  267.  His  prose  satires, 
269.  Cartas  del  Cavallero  de  la  Tc- 
naza,  269.  His  Visions,  270.  His 
character,  274,  275.  Attacks  Montal- 
van,  299,  7!.,  .307,  III.  106,7!.;  Gon- 
gora,  II.  5.32.  His  dramas,  185,324. 
Satires,  III.  5.  Elegies,  9.  Epigrams, 
15.  Ballads,  33.  Translations  into 
English,  102,  77.  Effect  of  his  Satires, 
110-112.  His  Letters,  136.  Iglesias 
imitates  him,  295. 

Quexa  y Avisos  contra  Amor,  1.  426,  n. 

Quinctilian,  HI.  .364. 

Quinquagenas  of  Oviedo,  I.  562. 

Quinones,  Suero  de,  his  Passo  Honroso, 
I.  193. 

Quinta  de  Laura  of  Solorzano,  III.  109. 

Quintana,  Francisco  de,  f.  1627.  Hipoli- 
to  y Aminta,  II.  102,  n.  Experiencias 
de  Amor.  HI.  51. 

Quintana,  M.  .1.,  Preface,  vi.  ’IVorks,  III . 
308-311.  Life  of  the  Cid,  I.  13,  r>. ; 
of  the  Prince  of  Viana,  330,  n.  He 
selects  ballads,  129.  Life  of  Las  Ca- 
sas, 564, 77.  On  Cueva,  II.  498,  n.  On 
Cibdareal,  HI.  397. 

Quiros,  I.  442. 

Quiros,  Pedro  de,  f.  1670.  Poet,  II.  549. 

Quixote,  Don.  first  intimations  of,  II.  80. 
First  Part,  81,  103,  108  ; when  written, 


INDEX. 


539 


103.  Second  Part,  97,  109,  1 13.  ^Vlly 
■written,  104.  Its  success,  107.  Out- 
line and  cluiracter.s,  108  - 1 14.  Every- 
where known,  11.5.  Carelessne.ss  and 
inconsi.stencies,  110-118.  Merits,  118, 
119.  Editions  of,  III.  410-419. 
Translations,  419,  420.  Imitations, 
420  - 422.  Fame,  422. 


E. 

Eabadan.  IMohammed,  f.  1003.  IMorisco 
poet.  III.  201,  n. 

Uacine's  Atlialie,  bv  Llaguno  y Amirola, 
111.318. 

Raimond  de  Miraval,  Troubadour.  I.  313. 
Uaimond  de  Toulouse,  Pierre,  Trouba- 
dour, I.  311. 

Raimond  de  Tours,  Troubadour,  I.  44, 

II. 

Ralph  Royster  Doyster.  II.  19. 
Rambouillet,  Hotel  de,  III.  119. 

Ramirez,  Antonio  Perez,  f.  1098,  III. 
195. 

Ramon  Vidal  do  Besalu,  Troubadour, 
I.  320. 

Rana.  Juan,  actor,  II.  434. 

Ranjel.  Pero  Lopez,  c.  1535.  Farza,  II. 
9. 

Raqiiel  of  Huerta.  III.  322,  330. 
Rarunond  Berengcr,  I.  308. 

Raynouard,  connection  of  the  Arabs 
with  modern  poetry.  III.  375. 

Razon.  La,  contra  la  Moda,  by  Luzan, 
from  Lachaussee,  III.  318. 

Rebolledo,  Bernardino  de,  d.  1070. 
Lyrical  poetiy,  H.  548.  Epistles,  III. 

0.  Epigrams,  15,  10.  Didactic  po- 
etry, 22. 

Redentor  Cautivo  of  Matos  Fragoso,  II. 
419. 

Redondillas,  what,  I.  111. 

Reformation,  I.  451.  Counterpoise  to 
Sjianish  power,  459.  Dpposed  every- 
where by  Sjiain,  400.  Suppressed  in 
Si)ain,  403  - 407. 

Refranes.  Sec  Proverbs. 

Rege,  De,  by  Mariana,  HI.  145. 

Reglas  de  Trovar  of  Don  Juaii  Manuel, 

1.  65,  n. 

Reinoso,  Nunez,  f.  1552.  Clareo  y Flo- 
risea.  HI.  77. 

Rejon  do  Silva,  Diego  Ant.,  f.  1786.  La 
Pintura,  HI.  279.  n. 

Relaciones  of  Cortes,  I.  557.  Of  I’ercz, 
HI.  1.33. 

Religions  faith  a prominent  trait  of 
Spanisli  literature  and  national  cliarac- 
ter,  1.  103,  347,  467,  II.  40.  Lope  de 
Vega’s  views  of,  143,  140,  159.  160, 
204,  n.  Connected  with  names.  204.  n. 
352,  n.  Made  ridiculous  on  tlie  stage, 
II.  92,  n.,  93,  n.,  347.  By  ecclesiastics. 


352.  Perversion  of  religious  faith.  I. 
468-471,  11.  359,  n..  III.'  204  - 200. 
Relox  de  Principes  of  Guevara,  1. 
541. 

Remedios  do  la  Dcsdiclia  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  HI.  90,  ??. 

Rengifo,  Juan  Diaz  de,  f.  1592.  Arte 
Poetica,  III.  230. 

Repartimiento,  what,  I.  116,  n. 

Resende  or  Rresende,  Garcia,  f.  1510. 
Cancionciro,  I.  06,  n.  On  Enzina. 
285,  n. 

Restauracion  de  Espaiia,  what,  HI.  380, 
n.  Ei>ic  by  IMesa,  II.  496,  497,  n. 
Retablo  de  la  Vida  de  Cluisto,  by  I’a- 
dilla,  I.  413. 

Reto.  what,  II.  292,  n. 

Revelacion  de  un  Ermitauo,  poem,  I. 
88. 

Revolution.  French,  effect  in  Spain.  III. 
343. 

Revolution,  Spanish,  under  Charles  iv., 
HI.  .344. 

Rcvulgo.  See  JLwpo  Revulgo. 

Rev,  Del,  abaxo  Kinguno,  of  Roxas,  11. 
409. 

Rcy  de  Artieda,  Andres,  f.  1005,  H.  510), 
11.  Satire,  HI.  4. 

Rey  Dccretado,  by  LTrntia,  III.  31.3. 
11. 

Rej'es,  Matias  de  los,f.  1040.  Tales,  HI. 

ioo. 

Eeves  Nuevos  dc  Toledo  of  Lozano,  III. 
91. 

Reynaldos  de  Montalban,  a romance  of 
chivalry.  I.  244. 

Reyna  Saba  of  Horosco,  III.  181,  ii. 
Reyna  Sevilla,  a tale.  HI.  77.  n. 
Revnosa,  Pedro  de,  f.  1727.  His  Santa 
Casilda,  HI.  226. 

Ehetorica  of  Guzman.  HI.  187.  (Of 
Mayans,  252. 

Rhymes,  (piaternion,  I.  29,  ii.  IVithont 
tiie  final  syllable.  III.  67.  ii. 

Rhymes,  singular,  of  Garcilasso,  I.  493. 
Riada.  La,  of  Trigueros,  HI.  320.  ii. 
RibadenevTa,  Pedro  de,  d.  1611.  Histori- 
an. III.  142. 

Ribera,  Suero  de.  I.  394,  ii. 

Ribero  dc  Barros,  Ant.  Luis  de,  d.  1083. 

Lyrical  poetry,  II.  549. 

Ribero  y Sarrea,  Alonzo  Bernardo,  hit 
Don  Quixote,  HI.  421. 

Ribeyro,  Bernardino,  II.  01,  n.,  HI.  5.3. 

II. 

Rich,  O.,  ITeface,  viii. 

Richard  Cceur  de  Lion  in  Lope  dc 
Vega’s  Jerusalen,  II.  143. 

Riego,  Miguel  de,  I.  414,  n. 

Eimado  de  Palacio  of  Ayala,  c.  1400,  I. 
99. 

Rinconetc  v Cortadillo  of  Cervantes.  11. 
86. 

Rioja,  Francisco  de,  d.  1658.  Lyrical 


540 


INDEX. 


jioctry,  II.  545.  Epistles,  III.  6. 
Elegies,  9. 

llios,  an  actor,  II.  244,  434. 

Kios,  Amador  dc  los,  Judios  de  Espaiia, 

I.  88,  n. 

Kios,  Vicente  dc  los.  Life  of  Cervantes, 

II.  ■’i2,  n.  On  Don  Quixote,  IIG  and 

II. ,  III.  418.  On  the  Euseapie,  404. 
Kiquier,  (Tiraiul,  a TroulKidour,  I.  35,  n., 

44,  II. , .37 1 . 

Kisco,  Manuel,  on  the  Ci<l,  I.  13,  ii.  On 
the  Eucros  of  Aviles,  III.  382,  ii. 
Kivas,  Angel  do  Saavedra,  Duqiie  de. 
Preface,  vi.,  I.  115,  193,;?.,  11.  471,;;., 
527,  )?.,  III.  .347. 

Uoa,  Martin  de,  f.  1604.  Didactic  prose, 

III.  189,  n. 

Robert  the  Devil,  I.  246,  n. 

Robin  Hood,  ballads  on,  I.  153. 

Robles,  Isidro  dc,  bis  Navidad  y Corpus 
Cbristi  Eestejados,  II.  218,  ;?.,  229,  ii. 
Talcs,  HI.  109.  Collection  of  plays, 
426. 

Robo  de  Dina  of  Lope  dc  Vega,  H.  222, 
a..  III.  317,  ??. 

Robo  de  Elena,  by  Cepeda,  II.  482  and 
n. 

Roca  y Sema,  d.  1649.  Lyilcal  poetry, 
11.  529,  n.  Ballads,  HI.  33. 

Roca,  Conde  de.  See  Vtra  ?/  Fipueroa. 
Rocaberti.  Juan,  Troubadour,  I.  ,330. 
Rodcric  the  Goth,  I.  7.  Ballads,  127, 
134.  Drama  by  Lope,  II.  206.  See 
Rodrigo. 

Rodomuntadas  Castellanas,  III.  101,;?. 
Rodrigo,  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  I. 
167,  ;?. 

Rodrigo,  Croniea  del  Rev,  I.  212. 
Rodriguez,  Josef,  d.  170.3.  Biblioteca 
Valentina,  I.  342,  n. 

Rodriguez  de  Vargas,  Damian.  See 
Vargas. 

Rogiers,  Pierre,  Troubadour,  I.  311. 
Roig,  .laume,  Valcncian  poet,  d.  1478,  I. 
,3.33  - .336. 

Rojas,  Fernando  dc,  c.  1485.  La  Celes- 
tina,  I.  265. 

Rojas,  Pedro  Soto  de,  f.  1623.  Poet,  II. 
544. 

Roma  Abrasada  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
19.3. 

Romance,  for  story,  I.  25. 

Romance  language.  III.  384. 
Romanceros,  History  of,  HI.  388-396, 
1.128,111.33.  isQa  Arellano;  Caeva; 
Depping ; Duran;  Escobar ; Fernandez ; 
Flamenco;  Flores;  Fuentes;  Galiano ; 
Guevara;  Hidalgo;  Hinard;  Lacpierica  ; 
Lockhart;  Madrigal;  Morales;  Nagera; 
Nucio ; Padilla ; Perez ; Puente ; Rami- 
Hete ; Salvd ; Timoneda ; Tortajada  ; 
Val ; Valdivielso ; Villalta;  Wolf. 
Romances.  See  Ballads. 

Romances  of  Chivalry,  I.  218-254. 


Origin  in  Normandy  and  Brittany,  etc., 
219.  Came  later  to  Spain,  220.  Ama- 
dis  de  Gaula,  221  - 230.  Esplandian, 
231,232;  and  romances  of  the  family 
of  Amadis,  233,  234.  Palmerin  de  Oli- 
va, 235;  and  its  successors,  2.36- 238. 
Other  romances,  241,  242.  Transla- 
tions of  romances  into  Spanish,  243, 
244.  Christian  romances,  245  - 249, 
Rapid  success  of  romances  of  chivalry, 
249.  Favored  by  circumstances,  250; 
by  the  chivalrous  tendencies  of  the 
Spatiisb  peoi)lc,  251.  Believed  to  be 
true  history  in  Spain,  252.  I’assion 
for  them,  253,  2.54,  II.  106,  107,  n.,  HI. 
38.  Destroyed  by  the  Don  Quixote, 
II.  107  and  n. 

Romans  enter  Spain,  HI.  360.  Their 
conquests  in  it,  361.  Their  colonies, 
362.  Their  literature  in  Spain,  364. 
Their  decaying  power,  365  - 370. 

Romantic,  fiction.  See  Fiction. 

Romero,  Francisco,  his  Epicedio,  I.  379, 
n. 

Romero  y Lan'anaga,  Gregorio,  play  on 
Garcilasso,  I.  486,  n. 

Rompccolumnas,  III.  86,  n. 

Ronccsvalles.  See  Verdadero  Suceso. 

Ronsard,  Odes,  I.  Ill,  r?. 

Ros,  Carlos,  Proverbs,  I.  .336,  n. 

Rosa,  Martinez  dc  la.  Preface,  vi.,  I.  10, 
n.,  201,  202,  ??.,  259,  n.,  III.  293,  n., 

.347. 

Rosa  of  Timoneda,  III.  29. 

Rosa  Blanca  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  156. 

Rosa  Frcsca,  ballad,  I.  124. 

Roscoe,  T.,  translation  of  Sismondi,  I. 
33,  n.  Life  of  Cervantes,  II.  5.3,  n. 

Rosenkranz,  Karl,  on  Calderon,  II.  358. 

Ro.sete,  Pedro  de,  dramatist,  II.  427,  III. 
425. 

Ross,  Thomasina,  translation  of  Bouter- 
wek,  I.  33,  n. 

Rowland,  David,  translation  of  Lazarillo, 

I.  512,  n. 

Rowley  and  jSIiddleton,  Spanish  Gypsy, 

II.  422,  ;?. 

Roxas,  Agustin  de,  f.  1602.  His  Vi- 
age  Entretenido,  III.  181,  II.  332  and 
n.  Account  of  the  early  drama,  I.  277, 
n.  His  Loas,  II.  442.  An  actor,  4.34. 

Roxas,  Francisco  de,  f.  1645.  Dramas, 
II.  408,  HI.  320  and  n.,  425. 

Rozas,  Gabriel  Fernandez  de,  pTical 
poettyq  f.  1662,  II.  530. 

Rua,  Pedro  de,  f.  1540.  Reply  to  Gue- 
vara, I.  541, 

Rue,  Dc  la,  on  the  Bards,  I.  84,  n. 

Rueda,  Lope  de,  f.  1565.  Dramas,  II. 
9 - 20.  Opinion  of,  by  Cervantes  and 
Lope  de  Vega,  20,  n.,  54.  Autos 
Sacramcntalcs,  227,  n.  Entremeses 
and  Pasos,  236  and  n. 

Rufian,  what,  II.  12,  n. 


INDEX. 


541 


Rufian  Dichoso  of  Cervantes,  II.  92. 

Rufo  Gutierrez,  Juan,  f.  1584.  Epic  po- 
etry, II.  49.3  ; lyrical,  508.  Friend  of 
Cervantes,  65.  Apotegmas,  III.  173,  ?i. 
Ruiz  de  Leon,  Francisco  do,  f.  1755.  His 
Hernandia,  III.  306,  n. 

Ruvdiaz,  Antonio,  on  the  Bu.?capi6,  III. 
404. 

Ruvsefior  de  Sevilla,  El,  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  II.  190. 


S. 

Saa  de  Miranda,  d.  1558.  Eclogues,  III. 
10.  12.  n. 

Saavedra,  Angel  de.  See  Rivas,  Duque 
de. 

Saavedra,  Antonio  de,  El  Peregrino  In- 
diano.  f 1599,  II.  467. 

Saavedra,  Gonzalvo  de,  f 1633.  Pas- 
tores  del  Betis,  III.  52. 

Saavedra,  the  discoverer,  I.  211. 
Saavedra  Faxardo.  See  Faxardo. 
Sabios,  Libro  de  los,  by  D.  Juan  Manuel, 
I.  65,  n. 

Saccbetti,  story  of  Dante,  I.  67,  68,  n. 

Imitated  by  Timoneda,  III,  97. 

Saco  de  Roma  of  Malara,  II.  26. 

Sacv,  Silvestre  de,  on  Morisco  literature, 
III.  202, 

Sage,  Le,  Estcbanillo  Gonzalez,  III.  74. 
Avellaneda,  II.  110,  u.  Imitates  Eo- 
xas,  409,  n.  Ilis  Guzman  do  Alfara- 
cbe,  III.  64.  Use  of  the  Conde  Lu- 
canor,  I.  72,  n. ; of  Marcos  do  Obregon, 
III.  70;  of  the  Diablo  Cojuelo,  111. 
Author  of  Gil  Bias,  266  - 269.  Uses 
many  Spanish  authors,  269,  n.,  270,  n. 
See  Ma ; Voltaire. 

Saggio  Storico-apologetico  of  Lampi- 
llas.  III.  429. 

Sagunto  of  Zamora,  II.  495,  496,  n. 
Salamanca,  poetical  school  of  III.  285, 
Salamanca,  Universitv  of,  founded,  I. 
53,  54,  ??.,  348,  n. 

.Salas,  Francisco  Gregorio  de,  f 1800. 
Works,  III.  283.  n. 

.Salas,  Gonzalez  dc,  edits  part  of  the 
works  of  Quevedo,  II.  260. 

.Salas,  Giu.seppe  Ant.  Gonzalez  de,  f 
1633.  Tragcdia  Antigua,  III.  236. 
Attacks  Gongora,  II.  532. 

Salas,  J.  T.  dc.  Life  of  Father  Isla,  III. 
258,  n. 

Salas,  Juan  Vague  de,  f 1616.  His 
Amantes  de  Teruel,  II.  484. 

Salas,  Pedro  de,  didactic  poetry.  III. 
19. 

Salas  Barbadillo,  Alonso  do,  d.  1630. 
Dramas,  II.  324.  Tales,  150,  n..  III. 
67,  99  - 102.  Patrona  de  Madrid.  II. 
499,  n.  Lyrical  poetry.  544.  Escucla 
de  Celestina,  I.  271. 


Salazar,  Ambrosio  de,  f 1622.  Tales, 
III.  103. 

Salazar,  Aug.  do,  d.  1675.  Poet.  II.  530. 
Jauregui’s  Orfeo  ascribed  to,  540.  Ili> 
Celestina,  I.  271. 

Salazar,  Francisco  Lobon  de,  III.  262,  n. 
Salazar,  Mardones  Christoval  de,  on 
Gongora,  II.  526,  n. 

Salazar,  Pedro  de,  ridiculed  by  Diego  dc 
Mendoza,  I.  519. 

Salazar  y Luna,  Bartolome,  drama  on 
Charles  v.,  I.  476. 

Salcedo  Coroncl.  See  Coronel. 
Saldueiia,  Count.  See  Solis. 

Sales,  Francis,  II.  205.  n. 

Sallust,  imitated  bv  Diego  dc  Blendoza. 

I. 521. 

Salva,  Vicente,  on  Alfonso  el  Sabio,  1. 
38,  n.  On  Don  Qui.xotc,  II.  105.  n. 
On  romances  of  cbivalry,  107,  n.  Hi-, 
Grammar,  HI.  222,  n.  Romancero. 
395. 

Salvage,  comedia  of  Zepeda,  II.  28. 
Salvation  of  Man,  by  Lope  do  Vega.  II 
170. 

Salvo,  a tailor,  writes  plays.  III.  31,3. 
Samaniego,  Felix  Maria  de,  d.  1801. 

Fabulas,  III.  280,  281,  ??. 

Sanchez,  Miguel,  dramatist,  II.  .323. 
Sanchez,  Pero,  f.  1590.  Historia  Moral. 
III.  189,  n. 

Sanchez,  T.  A.,  d.  1798.  Pocsias  Ante- 
riores  al  Siglo  XV.,  III.  271  and  n. 
Sanchez,  Vicente,  f.  1688.  Loa,  II.  442. 
Sanchez  de  las  Brozas,  Francisco,  com- 
mentary on  Juan  dc  Mena,  I.  .385,  n. 
Persecuted,  466.  Edits  Garcilasso, 
494  and  n. 

Sancho  iv..  d.  129.5.  His  Castigos  y 
Documentos,  I.  61. 

Sancho  Garcia,  Don.  of  Cadahalso.  III. 
320. 

Sanclio  Ortiz  dc  las  Roelas.  a rifaci- 
mento  of  La  Estrella  de  Sevilla,  q.  v. 
Sancho  Panza,  Historia  de.  III.  422. 
Sandoval.  Prndencio  de.  d.  c.  1620.  His- 
tory of  Chai'les  v..  HI.  151  ; of  Spain. 
141,  142,  n. 

Sannazaro.  his  Arcadia,  III.  40. 

Sanson  Nazareno,  bv  Enriquez  Gomez, 

II.  475. 

Santa  Cruz.  See  Cruz. 

Santa  Ella,  Dictionary  by,  I.  549. 

Santa  Liga,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  207. 
Santa  Teresa.  See  Teresa. 

Santillana,  Marquis  of,  d.  1458,  I.  .366  - 
379,  352,  435.  Juan  de  Mena’s  poem 
on,  383.  Proverbs,  HI.  170. 

Santob,  Rabbi,  f.  1.350.  Poetry,  I.  86. 
Libro  del,  HI.  475. 

Santos,  Francisco  de,  f.  1697.  Tales, 
HI.  67,  113. 

Sanz,  Hijipblito,  f.  1582,  II.  457. 
Saragossa,  rescued  from  the  Moors,  I.  8. 
TT 


542 


INDEX. 


Saraos  of  Zayas,  III.  108. 

Sardinia,  first  printing  in,  II.  458. 
Sarmiento,  Martin,  d.  1770.  Memorias, 
in.  271,  272,  n.  On  the  Spanish  lan- 
guage, 385.  On  the  Amadis  de  Gaula, 
I.  222,  n.  On  the  Galician,  42,  n. 
Sarria,  Marquis  of.  See  Jjimos,  Count  of. 
Satirical  poetry,  early.  III.  3.  Time  of 
Charles  v.  and  later,  4.  Iloratian,  7. 
Why  little  successful,  7,  8. 

Savariego  de  Sta.  Anna,  f.  1G03,  II. 
499,  11. 

Sayavedra,  Mateo  Luxan  de,  pscudo- 
1130110  of  Marti,  III.  Gl. 

Saynotes.  what,  II.  445.  Calderon’s  lost, 
343.  Of  Kanion  de  la  Cruz,  III.  327. 
Of  Castillo,  328,  n. 

Scarron,  imitates  lloxas,  III.  182,  II. 
411,  n.  Borrows  from  Aleman,  111. 
65,  )). 

Scliack’s  Gcschiehte  der  dramat.  Lite- 
ratiir,  II.  451,  n. 

Schiller's  Wallenstein,  III.  74. 

Schlegel,  A.  W.,  on  the  Niimancia  of 
Cervantes,  II.  76.  Translations  of 
Calderon,  355,  376.  On  the  Arabs, 
III.  375. 

Schmidt,  Er.  AV.  V.,  edition  of  Disciplina 
Clericalis,  I.  71,  n.  On  Calderon,  II. 
.344,  ?!.,  391,  11.,  399,  n. 

Schulze,  J.,  on  Calderon,  II.  377,  n. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  Minstrelsy  of  the 
Scottish  Border,  I.  154.  On  Ilita,  III. 
85,  11. 

Scuderi,  Mad.  de,  Alniahidc,  III.  85. 
Sebastian  y Latre,  d.  1792.  Alters  old 
plays.  III.  320. 

Secretaries  of  Spanish  monarchs.  III. 
140,  11. 

Secreto  Agravio,  A,  Secrota  Venganza, 
of  Calderon,  II.  371,  n. 

Sedano,  J.  -T.  Lopez  de,  f.  1778.  Parna- 
so.  III.  271  and  n.  On  Yriarte,  20,  n. 
His  .Jael,  329. 

Sedeno.-Iuan  de,  f.  1540.  Versifies  Celes- 
tina,  I.  269.  Works,  536,  537,  n. 
Segundo  Scipion  of  Calderon,  II.  389. 
Segura,  Francisco  de,  Primavera  de  Ko- 
rn ances,  III.  34 

Segura,  .Juan  Lorenzo.  See  Lorenzo. 
Seguro  de  Tordesillas,  I.  195. 

Selva  de  Aventuras  of  Contreras,  III. 

78.  , 

Selva  sin  Amor,  eclogue  of  Lope  de 
ATga,  II.  2.37. 

Selvagia,  imitation  of  Celestina,  I.  269, 
270,  11. 

Semiramis  of  Virues,  II.  29. 

Sempere,  Ilieronimo,  f.  1560,  II.  455. 
Sempere  y Guarinos,  Juan  de,  f.  1821. 
Bihlioteca,  III.  255,  n.  Luxo,  I. 
364,  n. 

Seneca,  Troades,  translated  by  Salas,  III. 
236.  Proverbs,  see  Diaz  Pero. 


Senecas,  Spaniards,  III.  364. 

Scuorita  Maleriada,  La,  of  Yriarte,  111. 
321. 

Seuorito  Mimado,  El,  of  Yriarte,  III. 
321. 

Sepfilveda,  Juan  Ginez,  chronicler,  1. 

555.  Opposes  Las  Casas,  564. 
Sepulveda,  Lorenzo  de,  f.  1551.  Ballad?. 
III.  2G. 

Sermons  of  Isla,  III.  2G0,  266.  Sec 
Eloquence,  Pulpit. 

Serranas,  what,  I.  82,  n. 

Serranilla,  what,  I.  371. 

Serrano,  Thomas,  on  Cultismo,  III.  428. 
Setenario,  I.  49,  50,  n. 

Seville,  capture  by  St.  Ferdinand,  1. 116. 
The.utre  in,  11.  26.  Obsequies  of 
Philip  ii.,  79. 

Shadwcll,  play  on  Don  Juan,  II.  .310. 
Shakspeare,  Mid.  N.  Dream,  I.  57. 
Taming  of  the  Shrew,  72,  n.  Ghost  of 
Banquo,  II.  73.  Henry  viii.,  391.  n. 
Henry  iv.,  .395,  n.  Tempest,  III.  77. 
Shelton,  translation  of  Don  Quixote. 
HI.  419. 

Sicily,  connection  with  Spain,  I.  350. 

Si  de  las  Niiias,  El,  of  Moratin,  HI.  3.38. 
Siega,  La,  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  233. 
Sicte  Partidas.  See  Partidas. 

Siete  Sahios  de  Roma  of  Perez,  III. 
99,  n. 

Siglo  de  Oro  of  Balbuena,  III.  49. 

Siglo  Pitagorioo  of  Enriquez,  HI.  73. 
Signorelli,  in  Spain,  HI.  313,  n.  On 
Ramon  de  la  Cruz,  328,  n. 

Siguenza,  Jose  de,  d.  1606.  Ecclesia.?- 
tical  historian,  III.  142,  14.3,  n. 

Siliceo,  Juan  Martinez,  HI.  385,  n. 

Silius  Italicus,  HI.  364. 

Silva  de  Varios  Romances,  HI.  389. 
Silvii,  Feliciano  de,  f.  1530.  Segunda 
Celestina,  I.  269. 

Silva,  Rodrigo  Mendez,  account  of  fir.?t 
acted  dramas,  I.  277. 

Silvas  in  plays,  II.  246. 

Silves  de  la  Selva,  romance  of  chivmlrv. 

I.  283. 

Silvestre,  Gregorio,  d.  1570.  V^orks.  1. 
505  -507.  On  Manrique,  409.  Narra- 
tive poetry,  II.  481;  religious,  517; 
satirical,  HI.  3.  Elegies,  9.  Epigrams. 
14.  Didactic,  17. 

Silvestre,  Pedro,  f.  1721.  La  Proserpina. 
HI.  227,  n. 

Silveira,  Miguel  de,  f-  1636,  II.  486. 
Simples,  what,  II.  19  and  n,  244. 

Siheriz,  .Juun,  his  Don  Quixote,  IH.  422. 
Sismondi,  J.  C.  L.  Simondc  de,  d.  1842. 
Notice  of,  I.  3.3,  n.  On  Don  Quixote. 

II.  104,  n.  On  the  Arabs,  III.  374. 
Sitio  de  Breda,  a loa,  II.  442. 

Sitio  y Toma  de  Amberes,  by  Gincr. 

II.  495,  496,  n. 

Skelton,  I.  408,  n. 


INDEX. 


543 


Slavery  opposed  by  Las  Casas,  I.  504,  n. 
Smollet,  T.,  translation  of  Don  Quixote, 
III.  419.  Imitation  of  it,  421. 

Smyth,  Win.,  Lectures,  III.  37.3,  n. 
Sociedades  Patriuticas,  III.  280,  281,  n. 
Society  in  the  time  of  Charles  v.  and  the 
Philip.s,  III,  55-58. 

Soledades  do  Aurelia  of  Mata,  III.  108. 
Soledades  de  la  Vida  of  Lozano,  III. 
108 

Soledades  of  Gongora,  II.  526. 

Solis,  Alonso  de,  Conde  do  Saldueiia,  f. 

1754  Ills  Pelayo,  III.  250. 

Solis,  Antonio  de,  d.  16.36.  Dramas,  II. 
420,  III.  425.  Poems,  II.  422,  n., 
549.  Poetical  Epistles,  III.  6.  Cor- 
respondence, 136.  Comiuest  of  Mexi- 
co, 164.  Flattery  of  Charles  ii.,  209. 
Llorente  on,  268. 

Solomon’s  Song,  by  Luis  de  Loon,  II. 

41.  By  ^lontano.  42.  n. 

Solorzano,  Alonso  del  Castillo,  d.  1640. 

Tales,  III.  108.  Dramas,  II.  324. 

Sol  Parado  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II.  247. 
Sol  Solo,  El,  by  Pujasol,  III.  189,  n. 
Somerdyk.  See  Aarsens. 

Sonnets,  first  known  in  S|ianish  poetry, 

I.  37.3  and  n.  Of  Boscan,  483.  Of 
Garcilasso,  490.  In  plays,  II.  246  and 
n.  Herrera  on,  510,  n.  Great  num- 
ber. 551. 

Sorapan  do  Ricros.  Juan,  f.  1616.  Prov- 
erbs. III.  172.  17.3,  ». 

Sordel,  Troubadour,  I.  314. 

Soria,  I.  442.  ». 

Sosa,  Lope  de,  f.  1500,  I.  121. 

Sosa,  Lojiu  de,  f.  1603.  Lyrie.al  poetry, 

II.  517  and  n. 

Soto,  Lnis  Barabona  de,  f.  1586.  La- 
grimas  do  Angelica,  II.  138,  477.  In 
Silvestre’s  works,  I.  506.  In  the  Ga- 
latea, II.  62.  His  Ip-ical  poetry,  508. 
Satires,  IIP  4.  Eclogues.  12. 

Soto  de  Iloxas,  Pedro,  Eclogues,  III.  1.3, 
14.  n. 

Soul’s  Voyage,  by  Lope  do  Vega,  II. 
171. 

Southey,  R.,  Chronicle  of  the  Cid,  I 12, 
n.,  13,  n , 167,  n.  His  travels  in 
Spain,  1.3,  tt  On  Lorenzo,  60,  ?!.  On 
Roderic,  21.3,  «.,  214,  n.  On  Miguel 
do  Luna,  215,  n-  On  the  Amadis, 
223,  «.,  224,  n.  On  Tirant  !o  Blanch, 
230,  n On  Esplandian,  231,  n.  On 
Lope  de  Vega,  II.  124.  n.,  163,  n.  On 
Barrios,  415,  n.  His  Orsua  and 
Agnirre,  468.  On  Mesa,  497,  n.  On 
Jovellanos,  HI.  301. 

Spain,  name,  HI.  355,  n. 

Sitanish  character  and  culture.  See 
Character. 

Spanish  language,  first  written,  I.  11, 
HI  382,  .383,  n.  Origin  of,  355  - 387. 
Gravity  and  dignity,  I.  13,  n.  Rich- 


ness, HI.  109,  n.  IMade  the  language 
of  the  land  and  of  the  law,  1.  45,  III. 
387.  State  of,  in  time  of  John  ii.  of 
Castile,  I.  389  -391.  From  that  time 
to  Charles  v.,  547,  548.  Supersedes 
Latin,  5.35,  536,  539,  n.  Fully  formed, 
548.  I’icst  dictionaries  and  grammars. 
540.  Diffusion.  550.  Standard  of 
Toledo,  551  and  n.  Fiishionable  in 
France,  II.  84,  n.,  434,  n.  State  in 
the  time  of  Herrera,  513.  Use  of 
Latin  words.  521,  n.  Gdngora’s  effect 
on,  525.  Academy  of  the  Spanish 
Language,  HI.  217.  State  of  the 
language  to  the  18th  cent.,  217,  218. 
Dictionaries,  219.  Orthographies,  220. 
Grammars.  222.  Other  works  on,  223. 
Effect  of  Melendez  on,  292.  Name  of, 
384.  Proportions  of  other  languages 
in  it,  385.  Rapid  prevalence,  386.387. 
Spanish  literature,  origin  of,  I.  4-10. 
First  Period  of,  1 1 - 453.  Second 
Period,  457,  III.  209.  Third  Period. 
213  - 345.  Interregnum  under  Ferdi- 
nand vii.,  347,  348.  Revival,  349. 
Prospect,  350, 351 . Its  characteristics, 

I.  102  - 108.  Its  period  of  glory,  456. 
Effects  of  religious  and  political  in- 
tolerance on.  468  - 470.  Decay  of,  and 
its  causes,  HI.  198-209.  See  Char- 
acter^ Spanish. 

Spiritualist  writers.  III.  176-181. 
Sprecher  de  Bernegg,  J.  A.,  II.  456,  n. 
Stage  of  the  Corrales,  II.  437.  See 
Theatre. 

Strcck,  Mad.,  Bouterwek’s  History,  I.  .3.3. 

II. 

Suarez,  in  the  Cancioneros,  I.  435. 
Suarez  de  Mendoza  y Figueroa,  Enrique, 
f.  1629.  His  Eustorgio  y Clorilcne, 

II.  102,  n. 

Subida  al  Monte  Carmel  of  Sta.  Cniz. 

III.  178. 

Succession,  War  of.  III.  214. 

Sucuos  of  Quevedo,  II.  270  - 274. 
Suenos,  Hay,  etc.,  anon,  drama.  III.  31.3. 
n. 

Suerte  sin  Esperanza  of  Aguilar,  1 1 . 
231. 

Sultana,  La,  of  Cervantes,  II,  92. 

Suma  de  todas  las  Civnicas,  I 216,  n. 
Sylvester  ii.,  Pope,  d.  1003.  Was  taught 
in  Spain,  HI.  375,  376,  n. 


T. 

Tablas  Pohticas  of  Cascalcs,  III.  236. 
Tacitus,  imitated  by  Diego  do  Mendoz.a. 
I.  522 

Tales.  See  Fictions. 

Tallante,  Mossen  Ju.an,  I.  434. 

Tallante  de  Ricamonte,  a romance  of 
chivalry,  I.  244,  n. 


o44 


INDEX. 


Tamayo  de  Vargas.  Sec  Vargas. 
Tamerlane,  embassy  to,  I.  203. 

Tansillo,  translated  by  Montalvo,  111. 
4G. 

'I'apada,  La,  of  Lope  do  Vega,  II.  155. 
Tapia,  in  the  Cancioncro,  I.  442,  n. 
Tapia,  Eugenio  de,  I.  20,  n.,  II.  230,  n. 
Tapia,  Gomez  de,  f.  1588.  Eclogues,  I. 

77, )!.,  III.  13  and  n. 

'rarasca,  what,  II.  228  and  «.,  345. 
Tarasca  de  Earto,  and  TiU’ascas  de  Ma- 
drid, of  Santos,  III.  IIG  and  n. 

'I'ardes  Entretenidas  of  Solorzano,  III. 
109,  n. 

Tarrcga,  Erancisco  de,  dramatist,  f.  IGOS, 

II.  278.  279. 

Tarsia,  Pablo  Antonio  de,  II.  255,  n. 
Tasso,  Torquato,  opinion  of  Amadis  de 
Gaula,  I.  230,  n.  Imitated  by  Vera  y 
Figueroa,  II.  500.  Translated  by 
Jaimegui,  539,  541,  n.  By  Montalvo, 

III.  46. 

Tastu,  M.,  I.  331,  n. 

Tcatro  Critico  of  Feyjod,  III.  244. 
Teatro  del  Principe,  and  Tcatro  de  la 
Cruz.  II.  37,  III.  314. 

'I'eatro  Ilespahol  of  Huerta,  HI.  329. 
'I'ellez,  Gabriel.  See  Tirso  de  Molina. 
Tellez  do  Azevedo,  Antonio,  dramatist, 
II.  429. 

Temple.  Sir  W.,  on  Don  Quixote,  II. 
119,  n. 

Templo  Miiitautc  of  B.  C.  de  Figueroa, 

I.  26,  n. 

Tcreio  dc  Flandes,  Cervantes’s  regiment, 

II.  57,  n. 

Teresa  de  Jesus,  Santa,  d.  1582.  Perse- 
cuted, I.  466.  Her  letters,  III.  135. 
Other  works,  178.  Life  by  Yepes, 
189,  n. 

Ternaux-Compans,  Henri,  Preface,  ix., 
II.  6,  «.,  9,  n.,  III.  346,  )).,  389. 

Tenaza,  Caballero  de  la,  of  Quevedo,  II. 
269,  n. 

Tertulias,  what.  III.  224. 

Terael.  See  Arnantes  de. 

Terza  rima,  I.  483,  486,  II.  497,  n. 
Tesorina  of  Huete,  II.  8. 

Tesoro,  Libro  del,  by  Alfonso  the  Wise, 
in  prose,  I.  39,  n.  In  poetry,  39,  44 
and  n. 

Tetis  y Pelco  of  Bolea,  II.  396,  n. 
Texada,  Cosme  Gomez  de,  f.  1636. 

Leon  Prodigioso,  III.  90. 

Texada  Paez,  Agustin  de,  d.  1635,  II. 
515. 

Texedor  dc  Segovia  of  Alarcon,  II. 
320. 

Theatre,  in  the  time  of  Lope  de  Rueda, 

II.  19.  35.  Of  Cervantes,  65,  77.  Of 
Lope  de  Vega,  174,  277.  In  the  I7tli 
cent.,  4.31  -449.  In  the  18th  cent  , 

III.  314,  325,  326.  See  Spanish 
Drama. 


Theorica  de  Virtudes  of  Castilla,  HI. 
18,  n. 

Thierry,  Augustin,  I.  7,  n. 

Three  Holy  Kings,  poem  of  13th  cent.,  I. 
26. 

Tia  Fingida  of  Cervantes,  II.  87,  88,  n. 
Tia  y Solirina,  La,  of  Moreto,  II.  405. 
Tickets  at  the  Theatre,  H.  439. 

Tieck,  Ludwig,  Preface,  ix.  Translation 
of  Marcos  do  Obregon,  HI.  69,  n.,  270, 
n.  Of  Don  Quixote,  420. 

Timbria  of  Lope  de  Kueda,  II.  13. 
Timoneda,  Juan  de,  f.  1597.  Dramas, 

I I.  20-24.  Publishes  the  works  of 
Lope  de  Rueda,  10.  Ballads,  HI.  29. 
Tale  of  Narvaez,  96,  n.  Patraiiuelo 
and  Sobremesa,  97  and  n.. 

Tiraboschi,  Girolamo,  on  Cultismo,  HI. 
427. 

Tirana,  an  actress,  HI.  340  and  n. 
Tirante  the  White,  romance,  I.  331,  n. 
Tirso  de  Molina,  d.  1648,  Dramas,  IL 
308  -313.  Theory  of  the  drama,  314, 
315.  Arnantes  de  Teruel,  302,  n. 
Condenado  por  Desconfiado,  355. 
Loa,  442.  Tales,  HI.  104.  See  Cor- 
neille, 7’.;  hfoUire. 

Tobias,  Los  Dos,  of  San  Phelipc,  HI. 
2.30. 

Todo  es  enredos  Amor,  by  Cordoba  y 
Figueroa,  III.  270,  n. 

Toledo,  rescued  from  the  Moors,  I.  8. 

Purest  Spanish  in,  551  and  n. 

Toledo,  Archbishop  of,  patronizes  Cer- 
vantes, II.  97,  n. 

Toledo.  Gab.  Alv.,  f.  1720.  La  Burro- 
maquia,  HI.  227,  n.,  228. 

Tolosa,  battle  of,  I.  9.  Poem  on,  by 
Mesa,  II.  496. 

Tomillas,  Conde,  a romance  of  cliivaliy. 
I.  244,  11. 

Torellas,  Pedro,  I.  435. 

Torquemada.  the  Inquisitor,  bums  books, 
I.  461, 11. 

Torquemada,  Ant.  de,  f.  1570.  His 
Olivante  de  Laura  and  Jardin  de 
Flores  Cnriosas,  III.  174. 

Tom,  Alfonso  de  la,  f.  1460.  Vision 
Deleytable,  I.  417. 

Tom,  El  Bachiller  Alfonso  dc  la.  1. 
418,  n. 

Tom,  El  Bachiller  Francisco  de  la, 
poetiy  published  by  Quevedo,  II.  263. 
Its  character,  263,  264,  265.  Question 
of  its  authorship,  264  - 266.  Eclogues, 

III.  13. 

Tom,  Francisco  or  Fenix  de  la,  poet,  f. 
1654,  II.  530  and  n.  Epigrammatist, 
III.  15. 

Tom,  Gonzalez  de  la,  f.  1590.  Hi.s 
Docientas  Preguntas,  I.  531. 

Torreno  exiled.  III.  347. 

Ton'epalma,  Count  of,  f.  1740.  His 
Deucalion,  HI.  229,  n. 


INDEX. 


545 


Torre  y Yebil,  Francisco  de  la,  poet,  f. 
1680,  II.  550,  n. 

Torres,  Diego  de,  poems.  III.  228.  On 
mathematics,  240.  Dramas,  313. 
Torres  Amat,  Felix.  See  Amat. 

Torres  de  Naharro,  Bartolome.  See 
Naharro. 

Tortajada,  Damian  de,  Romancero,  III. 
394. 

Tortoles,  Antonio  Sanchez,  f.  1671. 
Tales,  III.  106,  n. 

Toulouse,  Floral  Games  at,  I.  327.  Trou- 
badours at,  328. 

Tournaments,  earliest,  I.  213,  n.  Time  of 
John  ii.,  193-195,  250,  251. 

Tovar,  Fern.  Sanchez  de,  I.  174. 

Tovar,  Luis  de,  I.  442,  n. 

Trabajos  de  Hercules  of  Villena,  I.  362  ; 

of  Heredia,  III.  195. 

Trabajos  de  Jacob  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
222,  n. 

Tractatus  Septem  of  Mariana,  III.  146. 
Trapeza,  Albanio  Ramirez  de  la.  f.  1612, 
III.  22. 

Trato  de  Argel  of  Cervantes,  H.  67. 
Trent,  Council  of,  1.  515. 

Tres  Justicias  en  Uno  of  Calderon,  II. 
390. 

Tressan,  Comte  de,  Amadis  de  Gaule, 

I.  222,  n. 

Trezientas  Preguntas  of  Corelas,  I.  531. 
Triaca  of  Yebrixa,  II.  5,  n. 

Trigueros,  Candido  M.,  f.  1784.  Alters 
old  plays.  III.  320.  His  Riada,  320,  n. 
His  drama,  329. 

Trissino,  Sofonisba,  1.  296. 

Tristan  de  Leonnais,  a romance  of  chiv- 
alry, I.  244. 

Triunfos  Divinos  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
158. 

Triunfos  Morales  of  Guzman,  III.  19. 
Troubadours.  See  Provencal  Literature. 
Tuke,  imitates  Calderon,  II.  381. 

Tunis,  Goleta  taken,  II.  56. 

Turdetani,  III.  358,  n. 

Turpin  and  his  Chronicle,  I.  219. 

Tuzani,  character  in  Calderon,  II.  364,  n. ; 

in  Hita,  IH.  83. 

Tyre,  William  of,  I,  45. 


U. 

Ubeda,  Beneficiado  de,  f.  1340.  Poet. 
1.  78. 

Ubeda,  Francisco  Lopez  de,  pseudonyme 
of  Andreas  Perez,  q.  v. 

Ulfilas,  Gospels,  III.  370,  371,  n. 

Ulloa,  Alonso  de,  f 1553, 1.  480,  n. 

Ulloa,  Yuis  de,  f.  1674.  Poet,  II.  530 
and  n.  Defends  the  theatre,  352.  Epis- 
tles, HI.  6.  Eclogues,  13. 

Ultramar  of  Alfonso  the  Wise.  I.  39,  ri., 
45,  46. 

VOL.  III. 


Underplot  on  the  Spanish  stage,  II. 
243. 

Universal  empire,  hopes  of,  in  Spain,  I. 
459. 

Universal  History,  by  Alfonso  the  Wise, 
1.39,  n. 

Universal  Redencion  of  Blasco,  II.  470. 
Universidad  de  Amor  of  Polo,  III.  111. 
Universities  of  Italy,  I.  474. 

Universities,  Spanish,  early,  I.  348. 

Time  of  Charles  iii..  III.  256. 

Urban  viii..  Pope,  honors  to  Lope  de 
Vega,  II.  159. 

Urrea,  Geronimo  de,  f.  1566.  Dialogo, 

I.  411,  538  and  n.  His  Orlando  Furi- 
oso,  II.  476,  477,  n.  His  Caballero 
Determinado,  I.  500,  n. 

Urrea,  Pedro  de,  f.  1513.  Versifies  part 
of  Celestina,  I.  269.  Poems,  411,  412. 
Urrutia,  Pero  Rodrigo  de,  f.  1707,  III. 
313,  71. 

Usategui,  son-in-law  of  Lope  de  Vega, 

II.  132,  161. 

Utrecht,  peace  of.  III.  214. 

Uziel,  Jacobo,  f.  1624.  David,  Poema, 
II.  474,  475,  n. 


V. 

Vaca,  Alvar  Nuiicz  Cabeza  de,  f.  1540. 

His  Naufragios,  etc.,  I.  567,  n. 

Vaca,  Josefa,  actress,  II.  434. 

Val,  Pablo  de,  Romancero,  III.  394. 
Valdepenas,  Rodrigo  de,  on  Manrique, 

I.  409. 

Valderrabano,  Manuel  Perez,  f.  1785, 

III.  290,  71. 

Valden-amen,  pseudonyme.  See  Var- 
flo7-a. 

Valdes,  Juan  de,  1540.  Dialogo  de  las 
Lenguas,  I.  546,  547,  n. 

Valdes,  Juan  de,  collection  of  plays,  HI. 
426. 

Valdivielso,  Joseph  de,  f.  1633.  Dramas, 

II.  316-318.  Poems,  150,7!.  Naci- 
miento,  218,  ?i.  On  the  Bachiller  de  la 
Torre,  266.  His  San  Josef,  and  Sa- 
grario,  472.  His  ballads.  III.  32. 

Valencia,  Diego  de,  I.  429. 

Valencia,  drama  in,  early,  II.  167,  n. 
Beginning  of  16th  century,  8,  n.;  end 
of  it,  28.  Time  of  Lope,  128, 167.  173. 
Theati'e  closed.  III.  341,  n. 

Valencian  dialect,  1.  331.  Decay  of,  337, 
550. 

Valencian  ^vriters,  books  on,  I.  342. 
Valera,  Diego  de,  f.  1481,  I.  184,  n. 
Valerio  de  las  Historias  of  Almela,  1. 
418. 

Valiente  Cespedes  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II , 
208. 

Valladares  de  Sotomayor,  Antonio,  f 
18th  century.  Dramatist,  IH.  331. 
TT  ^ 


69 


546 


INDEX. 


Valladares  de  Valdelomar,  f.  1617.  Ca- 
ballero Venturoso,  III.  88. 

Valle,  Juan  del,  psendonyme  of  Cada- 
halso.  III.  320, 11. 

Valles,  Pedro,  of  Aragon,  f.  1549.  Prov- 
erbs, III.  171. 

Valles,  Pedro,  of  Cordova,  f.  1580.  Dis- 
course ou  Death,  I.  536,  n. 

V’^anda,  La,  y la  Elor,  of  Calderon,  II. 
385,  395. 

Vandali,  etc.,  invade  Spain,  III.  369. 

Vanegas,  Alexis  de,  f.  1540.  His  Ago- 
nia,  and  Diferencias  do  Libros,  I.  539, 
540. 

Vaqucira,  what,  I.  371. 

Varflora,  Firmin  Arana  de,  II.  534,  n. 

Vargas,  Garci  Perez  de,  ballad  on,  I. 
127. 

Vargas,  Rodriguez  de,  f.  1621,  II.  474. 

Vargas,  Tamayo  de,  edition  of  Garci- 
lasso  de  la  Vega,  I.  494  and  n.  De- 
fence of  Mariana,  III.  150,  n. 

Vargas  y Ponce,  nis  Abuses  de  la  Len- 
gua  Castellana,  III.  218,  n. 

Varias  Hermosas  Flores  del  Parnaso,  II. 
549, 11. 

Varias  Notieias  of  Figueroa,  III.  183. 

Varies  Efetos  de  Amor  of  Alcala  y 
Hen-era,  III.  109. 

Varies  Prodigies  de  Amor  of  Robles. 
III.  109. 

Vasconcellos,  Ferreira  de,  f.  1613.  His 
Eufrosina,  I.  270,  n. 

^'asconccllos,  Juan  Mendez  de,  his  Liga 
Desccha,  f.  1612,  II.  499,  500,  n. 

Vasquez,  Joseph,  pseudonyme  of  Cada- 
halso.  III.  277,  n. 

Vaz  de  Velasco,  Alfonso,  f.  1602.  His 
Zeloso,  I.  271. 

Vazquez,  in  the  Cancionero,  I.  442,  n. 

Vega,  Alonso  de  la,  d.  1566.  Dramatist, 
II.  25. 

Vega,  Ant.  Lopez  de,  f.  1641.  Poems, 
II.  529.  Didactic  prose,  IH.  186. 

Vega,  Bernardo  de  la,  f.  1591.  Pastores 
de  Iberia,  III.  48. 

Vega,  Gabriel  Lasso  de  la.  See  Lasso. 

Vega,  Garcilasso  de  la.  See  Garcilasso. 

Vega.  Garcilasso  de  la,  (El  Inca,)  d.  1616. 
Ilis  Comentarios,  etc..  III.  155-158. 

Vega,  Joseph  de  la,  f.  1693.  Didactic 
prose.  III.  195,  n. 

Vega,  Lope  Felix  de,  d.  1635.  Birth,  II. 
120,  121,  n.  Education,  121-123. 
A soldier  in  Terceira,  123.  Secretary 
to  the  Bishop  of  Avila,  123.  Earliest 
works,  123.  His  Dorotea,  124.  Sec- 
retary to  Antonio,  Duke  of  Alva,  124. 
Writes  the  Arcadia,  125.  Marries  Isa- 
bela de  Urbina,  127.  Is  exiled  for  a 
duel,  127.  Goes  to  Valencia,  28,  128. 
His  wife  dies,  128.  He  serv-es  in  the 
Armada,  129.  Retams  to  Madrid, 
130.  Secretary  of  the  Marquis  of 


JIalpica,  and  of  the  Marquis  of  Sarria, 
131.  Marries  Dona  Juana  de  Guardio, 
131.  She  dies,  132.  His  son  Carlos 
die.s,  131.  Marcela,  his  daughter,  132. 
Death  of  his  son  Lope,  133.  He  be- 
comes a )jriest,  133 ; and  a Familiar  of 
the  Inquisition,  134.  His  San  Isidro. 
135,  149.  His  Hermosura  de  Angbli- 
ca,  137.  His  Dragontea,  140.  His 
Peregrino  en  su  Patria,  142.  His 
•lerusalen  Conquistada,  143,  485.  His 
versification,  144.  His  Pastores  de 
Helen,  146.  Religious  poems,  148. 
His  appearance  at  the  festival  for  the 
beatification  of  Isidro,  149-  152  ; and 
at  the  festival  for  his  canonization. 
152  - 155.  His  Tome  Burguillos,  154, 
491.  He  is  a good  reader,  150,  152. 
His  Filomcna,  Tapada,  Andromeda, 
and  Diana,  155.  Attacks  Cultismo,  156 
and  n.,  531,  532.  His  Circe,  Manana 
de  San  Juan,  and  Rosa  Blanca,  156. 
A presiding  officer  at  an  Auto  da  F6, 
157.  His  Triunfos  Divinos,  158.  Co- 
rona Ti-t'igica,  159.  His  Laurel  de 
Apolo,  159.  Prints  his  Dorotea,  160. 
His  last  works,  illness,  and  death,  161, 
162.  His  funeral,  162,  163.  His 
miscellaneous  works,  II.  164-  166. 
His  dramas,  166  -250.  First  attempts 
for  the  stage,  166,  168.  His  New 
Ai-t  of  making  Plays,  166.  His  exile 
at  Valencia,  167.  His  Verdadero 
Amante  and  Pastoral  de  Jacinto,  169. 
His  Moralities,  170-173.  Acts  the 
character  of  a buffoon  at  Valencia, 
173.  Appears  as  a dramatist  at  Ma- 
drid, and  succeeds,  174.  Prints  only  a 
part  of  his  plays,  175  and  n.,  176. 
Their  great  number,  175,  176.  His 
theory,  and  purpose  in  writing  for  the 
stage,  177.  Variety  of  his  dramas, 
178,  239.  His  plays  acted  very  often, 
1 80,  n.  His  Comedias  de  Capa  y Espa- 
da,  179-191.  His  Comedias  Heroy- 
cas,  192  - 209.  Their  want  of  histori- 
cal truth,  208,  222,  n.  Comedias  on 
common  life,  210  - 217.  Comedias  on 
religious  subjects,  217-222.  Come- 
dias de  Santos,  222  - 226.  Autos  Sa- 
cramentales,  226-234.  Entremeses, 
234  - 236.  Eclogues,  236  - 238,  IH. 
13.  Characteristic  principle  of  his 
dramas,  the  interest  of  the  story,  II. 
239,  243  and  n.  Characters,  240. 
Long  speeches,  240.  Incongruity  and 
irregularity  of  his  di-amas,  241.  His- 
tory and  geography  sacrificed,  242. 
Immorality,  242,  243.  Underplot,  243. 
Gracioso,  244.  Versification,  245,246. 
Ballads  introduced,  247,  248.  Con- 
structed his  drama  on  the  old  tra- 
ditions of  the  theatre,  249.  His  great 
success.  249-  251.  Plays  falsely  at- 


INDEX. 


547 


tributed  to  him,  251  and  n.  His  eam- 
ings  as  an  autlior,  251.  Price  of  his 
plays,  251,  n.  He  was  poor,  251.  Vast 
amount  of  his  works,  252.  Nature  of 
his  genius,  253,  254.  On  Pulgar,  I. 
201,  n.  On  the  Italian  school,  507. 
Oh  the  Mendozas,  510,  n.  On  Lope 
de  Rueda,  II.  20,  n.  Relations  with 
Cervantes,  82  - 84.  Friend  of  Guillen 
de  Castro,  284.  First  hint  of  a Don 
.Tuan,  309.  His  dramatic  school  op- 
posed by  scholars  and  chm'chmen,  327 
-.330.  Triumphs  over  them,  331. 
He  praises  Calderon,  335.  His  Fuer- 
za  Lastimosa,  I.  127,  n.  His  Escla- 
vos  en  Ai'gel,  II.  91,  n.  His  Selva 
sin  Amor,  424.  Parody  of  his  Cava- 
llero  de  Olmedo,  487.  His  epics,  .500. 
Connection  with  Marini,  520,  n.  Lyr- 
ical poetry,  545.  Epigrams,  III.  15. 
Didactic  poetry,  22.  Ballads,  32,  36. 
Tales,  67,  103.  Letters,  136.  Dramas 
in  Comedias  Escogidas,  425.  See  Her- 
tuch;  Dohrn;  Faurid;  Holcroft ; Hol- 
land, Lord ; Montalvan  ; Navarrete ; 
Southey ; Zedlitz. 

Vegas,  Damian  de,  f.  1590.  Libro  de 
Poesia,  II.  277,  278  and  508. 

Veinte  Triunfos  of  Frexenal,  II.  521,  n. 

Velasco,  Antonio  de,  I.  435. 

Velazquez,  Baltasar  Mateo,  f.  1621.  Fi- 
losofo  del  Aldea,  III.  191. 

Velazquez,  Luis  Joseph,  d.  1772.  His 
edition  of  the  Bachiller  de  la  Ton-e, 
II.  264.  His  Orfgenes  de  la  Poesia, 
in.  251. 

Venegas,  Alexis.  See  Vanegas. 

Venegas,  Pedro  de  Saavedra,  poet,  II.  533. 

Venganza  Venturosa,  La,  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  II.  121,  n. 

Ventura  de  Vergara.  See  Vergara. 

Veraguas,  Duke  of,  II.  340,  343  and  n. 

Vera  Tassis,  Life  of  Calderon,  II.  334. 
Edition  of  his  Comedias,  343 ; of  Aug. 
de  Salazar,  530,  n. 

Vera  y Figueroa,  or  Zuniga,  Conde  de 
la  Roca,  Antonio  de,  d.  1658.  On 
Pedro  el  Cruel,  I.  183.  His  Fernando, 
an  epic,  II.  500,  502,  n.  His  Embaxa- 
dor,  III.  184.  His  part  in  Cibdareal,  397. 

I'era  y Villaroel,  Juan  de,  dramatist,  II. 
429. 

Vera  y Zuniga.  See  Vera  y Figueroa. 

Verdad  en  el  Potro  of  Santos,  III.  115. 

Verdad  Sospechosa  of  Alarcon,  II.  321. 

Verdadero  Amante,  El.  of  Lope  de  Ve- 
ga, II.  169. 

Verdadero  Suceso  de  la  Batalla  de  Ron- 
cesvalles,  by  Garrido  de  Villena,  II. 
477. 

Vergara  Salcedo,  Sebastian  Ventura  de, 
poet,  f.  1660,  II.  530. 

Vergonzoso  en  Palacio  of  Tirso  de  Mo- 
lina, II.  313. 


Verses  without  the  final  syllable,  IIL 
67,  n. 

Vexamen  de  Ingenios,  by  Cancer,  HI 
189,  n. 

Vezilla  Castellanos,  Pedi-o  de  la,  f.  1586 
His  Leon  de  Espana,  II.  494. 

Viago  al  Parnaso  of  Cervantes,  H.  88 
HI.  6,  8,  n. 

Viage  del  Mundo  of  CevaUos,  HI.  183,  n. 
Viage  Entretenido  of  Roxas,  III.  181. 
Viana,  Carlos  de,  I.  332,  n.,  350.  His 
Croniea,  III.  168,  n. 

Viana,  Pedro  Sanchez  de,  his  Ovid’s 
Metamorphoses,  II.  497,  n. 

Viardot,  Louis,  Life  of  Cervantes,  and 
translation  of  his  Don  Quixote,  H.  53, 
)!.,  III.  419.  Of  his  Novelas,  II.  88,  n. 
Vicente,  Gil,  f.  1536.  Dramas  in  Span- 
ish, I.  283  - 292.  Editions  of  his 
Works,  284,  n.  His  Cassandra,  285. 
His  Viudo,  289.  Other  plays  by  him, 
290-292.  Three  Autos,  291, 7i.  His 
merits,  292.  His  Amadis,  II.  4 and 
71.  His  Pai'vos,  19,  n. 

Victor,  shout  in  the  theatre,  H.  440. 
Vidas  de  Espaiioles  Celebres  of  Quintana, 
III.  309. 

Vidriana  of  Huete,  II.  8. 

Viejo,  El,  y la  Nina,  of  Moratin,  HI.  335. 
Vieyra,  Antonio  de,  his  Lagrimas  de 
Heraclito,  III.  185,  n. 

Vilarasa,  Luis  de.  Troubadour,  I.  330. 
Villagra,  Gaspar  de,  f.  1610,  II.  469. 
VUlahermosa,  Duke  of,  patron  of  Argen- 
sola,  II.  537. 

Villaizan,  Geronimo.  See  Villayzan. 
Villaizan,  Juan  Nunez  de,  chi'onicler,  I. 
175. 

Villalobos,  Francisco  de,  f.  1543.  Works, 

I.  532-534.  Translation,  I.  294,  II. 
30. 

Villalobos,  Simon  de,  f.  1605.  Pelear  a 
la  Gineta,  HI.  188. 

Villalon,  Bachiller,  c.  1535.  Drama  b}-, 

II.  9,  n. 

Villalon,  Cristoval  de,  f.  1541.  Submits 
a book  to  the  Inquisition,  I.  462,  n. 
Villalpando,  .lacinto  de,  f.  1655.  Poem, 
II.  483.  Tales,  III.  109. 

Villalta,  Andres  de,  Romancero,  III. 
392. 

Villamediana,  Count,  d.  1621.  Poet,  II. 
483,  527.  Dramatic  entertainment, 
184,  n.  Effect  on  the  language,  IH. 
218. 

Villancicos,  dramatic,  I.  278,  n.  Lyrical, 
440. 

Villanueva,  Viage  Literaiio,  HI.  153,  n. 
On  Forner,  294,  n. 

Villaroya,  Josef,  on  Jatime  i.,  I.  317,  n. 
Villasandino,  Alfonso  Alvarez  de,  f. 

1440,  I.  391  -393,  429. 

Villaviciosa.  .Joseph  de,  d.  1658.  His 
Mosquea,  II.  489. 


548 


INDEX. 


Villaviciosa,  Seb.  de,  dramas,  II.  419, 
420,  n. 

Villayzan,  Gerdnimo  de,  II.  451,  n.,  323. 
Villegas,  Alonso  de,  f.  1554.  Ilis  Selva- 
gia,  I.  2G9,  270,  n. 

Villegas,  Antonio  de,  f.  1550.  His  In- 
ventario,  I.  503,  II.  481,  IH.  93. 
Villegas,  Estevan  Manuel  de,  Ljrrical 
poetry,  d.  1669,  II.  541  - .544.  Satires, 
III.  7.  Elegies,  9.  Eclogues,  13. 
Epigrams,  14.  Opposes  the  old  drama, 
II.  328. 

Villegas,  Francisco  de,  dramatist,  II. 
427,  III.  425. 

Villegas,  Gerdnimo  de,  translations  from 
Juvenal,  I.  410,  n. 

Villegas,  Pero  Eemandez  de,  f.  1515. 
Translation  of  Divina  Commedia,  I. 
409,  n.  Aversion  del  Mundo,  and 
Complaint  of  Faith,  410,  n.  Terza 
rima,  486,  n. 

ViUena,  Alonso  Garrido  de,  f.  1577,  11. 
477. 

Villena,  Enrique,  Marques  de,  d.  1434. 
Life  and  works  of,  1. 357 -364.  Drama, 
259.  Arte  de  Trobar,  328,  n.  Trans- 
lations, 352.  Thought  to  have  written 
the  Querellas,  44,  n. 

Villena,  Marquis  of,  f.  1710.  Plan  for 
the  Spanish  Academy,  III.  216. 
Vinoles,  Narcis,  f.  1510.  His  Suma  de 
todas  las  Cronicas,  I.  216,  n.  Poetry, 
340. 

Virgen  Madre  de  Dios  of  Escobar,  II. 
474. 

Virgil,  ballad  on,  I.  127.  Aineid  and 
Georgies  translated  by  Mesa,  II.  496, 
497,  n.  Georgies,  by  Luis  de  Leon, 
48. 

Virgin  of  the  Keliquary  of  Calderon,  II. 
359. 

Virgin,  Holy.  See  Madonna. 

Virginia  of  Montiano,  III.  316. 

Virues,  Cristdval  de,  f.  1609.  Dramas, 
II.  28.  Lope  de  Vega  on,  166,  167. 
His  Monserrate,  470.  Satires,  HI.  4, 
n.  Didactic  poetry,  19.  Descriptive, 
23,  n. 

Visigoth  dynasty  in  Spain,  III.  370. 
Vision  Deleytable  of  La  Torre,  I.  417. 
Visions  of  Quevedo,  II.  270. 

Vita  Beata  of  Lucena,  1.  415. 

Vita  Mathildis,  I.  112,  n. 

Viudo,  O,  of  Vicente,  I.  289. 

Vivas,  Er.  Duran,  f.  1643,  H.  474, 475,  n. 
Vivero,  Luis  de,  I.  435. 

Vivo,  El,  y el  Difunto,  of  Santos,  III. 
116. 

Voltaire,  his  Mariamne,  II.  372,  n.  On 
Diamante,  416.  On  the  Araucana, 
464.  On  Gil  Bias,  III.  70,  266. 

Votos  del  Pavon,  poem,  13th  cent.,  I.  60. 
Vuelta  de  Egypto  of  Lope  de  Vega,  II. 
234. 


W. 

Wace,  Robert,  I.  219. 

Walker,  Ferdinand,  translation  of  Tor- 
quemada,  HI.  175,  n. 

Ward,  Edward,  Don  Quixote,  in  verse, 
IH.  420. 

White,  Joseph  Blanco,  I.  72,  n.,  H.  185, 
327,  n.,  HI.  238,  n.,  240. 

Wieland,  C.  M.,  on  Villegas,  II.  544,  n. 
His  Silvio  de  Rosalva,  IH.  420. 

Wiffen,  J.  H.,  Life  and  Works  of  Garei- 
lasso,  I.  494. 

Wilmot,  translation  of  Don  Quixote,  HI. 
419. 

Wolf,  Ferdinand,  I.  13,  n.,  79,  n.,  268,  n., 
274,  n.,  IH.  388,  396. 

Wolf,  F.  A.,  publishes  a tale  of  Cer- 
vantes, II.  88,  n. 

Wolf,  P.  A.,  his  Preciosa,  II.  422. 

Wright,  Thos.,  Pm-gatory  of  St.  Patrick, 
H.  353,  n. 


X. 

Xacaras,  what,  II.  446. 

Xarife,  ballads  on,  I.  148. 

Xerez,  battle  of.  III.  373. 

Xerez,  Francisco  de,  f.  1540.  Conquista 
de  Perh,  I.  567. 

Ximenes,  violates  the  treaty  of  Granada, 
I.  449.  Talent  and  bigotry,  463,  464 
and  n. 

Ximeno,  Vicente,  d.  1764.  Escritoresde 
Valencia,  I.  343,  n. 


y. 

Yague  de  Salas.  See  Salas. 

Yafiez  y Rivera,  Geronymo  de  Alcala,  d. 
1632.  His  Alonso  M090  de  Muchos 
Amos,  III.  71. 

Yepes,  Diego  de,  f.  1599.  Life  of  Sta. 
Teresa,  III.  189,  n. 

Yong,  Bartholomew,  translator,  H.  508, 
n..  III.  42,  n.,  44,  n. 

Young,  Night  Thoughts  translated,  IH. 
306,  320,  n. 

Yriarte,  Juan  de.  Proverbs,  III.  173. 
On  Luzan,  239,  n.  Royal  Librarian, 
249. 

Yriarte,  Tomas  de,  d.  1791.  Works, 
HI.  277.  On  Sedano,  20  n.,  271,  n. 
Dramas,  321. 

Ysopet,  I.  84,  n. 


Z. 

Zabaleta,  Juan  de,  f.  1667.  Didactic 
prose,  HI.  194.  Dramas,  11.  414  and 
n.,  III.  425. 


INDEX. 


549 


Zabra  y Eemandez,  Collection  of  Plays, 
III.  426. 

Zamora,  Antonio,  f.  1 730.  Dramas,  II. 
426.  Play  on  Don  Juan,  310.  Poems, 

m.  228. 

Zamora,  Lorencio  de,  d.  1614,  II.  495, 
496,  n. 

Zapata,  Luis  de.  See  (^apata. 
Zarabandas,  II.  447,  448  and  n. 

Zarate,  Agustin  de.  See  Carate. 

Zarate,  Fernando  de,  uses  a play  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  II.  199,  n.  His  Reyna  de 
Ungria,  359,  n.  Other  di-amas,  414. 
Confounded  with  Enriquez  Gomez, 
415,  n.  Dramas  in  Comedias  Esco- 
gidas,  III.  425. 

Zarate,  Lopez  de,  d.  1658.  Invencion  de 
la  Cruz,  II.  486  487,  n.  At  the  Festi- 
vals of  San  Isidro,  152,  153.  Poems 
by  Lope  de  Vega  ascribed  to,  157,  n. 
Lyrical  poetry,  548.  Eclogues,  III. 
13. 

Zarzuela,  what,  II.  424.  Of  Candamo, 
423.  Of  Calderon,  399,  n.  Of  Dia- 
mante, 416. 

Zavala  y Zamora,  Caspar,  f.  18th  cent. 

Dramatist,  III.  331. 

Zavaleta,  Juan  de.  See  Zabaleta. 
Zavaleta,  Thomas,  f.  1750.  Defence  of 


the  old  drama  and  of  Cervantes,  II. 
96,  n. 

Zayas,  Maria  de,  f.  1647.  Tale  on 
Avarice,  II.  417.  Other  tales,  III. 
107,  108. 

Zedlitz,  Baron,  his  Stern  von  Sevilla, 
from  Lope  de  Vega,  11.  205,  n. 

Zegris  and  Abencerrages,  ballads  on,  I. 

148.  Story  of.  III.  80. 

Zelos  aim  del  Ayre  matan  of  Calderon, 
II.  361, 71. 

Zeloso,  a play  imitating  Celestina,  I. 
271. 

Zenobia,  by  Calderon,  II.  389. 

Zepeda.  See  Cepeda. 

ZevaUos,  Miguel  de,  f.  1738.  His  Elo- 
quencia  del  Silencio,  III.  226. 

Zoraida  of  Cienfuegos,  III.  329. 

Zorrilla,  plays  and  poems  on  Don  Juan, 

II.  310,  n. 

Zorzi,  .iVlessandro,  on  Cultismo,  III.  429. 
Zuniga,  Avila  y,  Comentarios,  I.  499,  n. 
Zuniga,  Ortiz  de,  on  Argote  de  Molina, 

III.  410. 

Zurara,  Gomez  Eannes  de,  Portuguese 
chronicler,  I.  221,  222,  n. 

Zurita,  Geronimo,  d.  1580.  His  Anales 
de  Aragon,  HI.  138.  His  correspond- 
ence, 129. 


THE  END. 


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